Through Life and Loss
by YellowWomanontheBrink
Summary: Wakana was a girl who knew how to live, to smile, she needed no reason to, because everything she had to live for was already gone. She didn't pity herself because pity was useless, and would suck away what happiness she had left. Instead, she smiled. RxW Title Change! Formerly "One Day, This Story Will Have a Title". New Chapter! Considering canon info, this can be seen as AU...
1. The End

**Hello! YellowWomanontheBrink here! This is a brand new story, and my very, very first time at romance. I'm very green at this, tell me if anything seems unrealistic, cliché, or just plain stupid. (I'm very nervous about posting this!) This is freshly typed and unedited, so if anything doesn't make sense, alert me! I don't edit fanfiction. I don't want to go on and on, I know some people are turned off by that. Make sure you read the Author's note at the end, it's the only one where I really say anything important! *Sigh* I have a tendency to ramble, so I'll just start.**

**And so…BEGIN!**

Art the funeral of Nura Rihan, Nidaime of the most powerful yokai clan, only three people did not weep.

The first was his father, Nurarihyon, who had to keep strong, as he would act as regent for the clan until a different heir was picked. It was only expected. No one had ever seen Nurarihyon cry…with maybe the exception of his wife. But Youhime had taken that secret with her to the grave.

The second was Kubinashi, as he had expended all his tears he could afford over his master's bleeding and dead body the night of its discovery. The neckless yokai was merely numb, yet kept a firm hand on Little Rikuo's shoulder, the other around Kejouro's silent, sobbing form. They stood next to a solemn Wakana.

The third, and probably most surprising of the dry-eyed people in attendance was Nura Wakana. She simply stood in abject silence, her hand gently holding onto her son's, who was trembling uncontrollably. His wails tore through the air the loudest of the entire clan, broken only by the occasional gasp for air. Perhaps some of the other yokai though tit disgraceful for a young boy like himself to sob like so, but Wakana wasn't going to stop him. She knew the only thing that could make one feel better a was a long hard cry, and it was healthier for Rikuo to have it now.

To her, it was like a dream.

And it sort of was.

That her husband of seven years going strong was dead. She had always intended to live longer than him, but not like this. Not so young, barely forty. She wanted to be with him until she was bedridden and frail; that's how long she wanted him to stay. Subconsciously she tightened her grip. Perhaps she was merely destined to be alone. It seemed fate was determined to isolate her.

The night before the burial, she had lain in her bed with Rikuo held close to her chest and thought of herself, her life, and her marriage. It had occurred to her rather violently, slamming into her like a harsh punch—that she was a widow. It felt strange, needlessly said. She was also the single matron of a yokai clan, and she was human.

She felt more than a little sad. Mind-crushingly sad didn't even describe it. Amongst the extravagant, and fabulous ayakashi, she felt…forgotten. Unneeded.

When Rihan was alive, she had felt needed. And even if she wasn't really needed, she felt his love envelop her like a warm blanket. It made her smile, for herself, and it was so unusual to smile for her own benefit. For as long as she could remember, she had always tried to stay upbeat and optimistic for other people, never for herself. And she had been given that privilege in those short eight years.

It was petty, but she always had so much love to give, and had always worried she'd be one of those sad people that would never receive. She wanted it, had got it, and watched it slip away through her fingers.

So the evening before, when she'd collapsed into bed early with her son in her arms it was like a dream…

=0=

Okinamachi Wakana was a city girl, and proud of it. She lived in a tiny apartment in the middle of the city above a corner store with her younger sister and single mother. Her father was dead, dead before the birth of her sister. She was fourteen, her hair long, almost down to the middle of her back, and grew painfully slowly; in all her thirteen years she'd never cut it. Her little sister Aiko's hair was even longer, despite the five years age difference between the two. Her mother sold flowers on the street corner. The small family grew them in enormous window boxes. Flowers of every kind grew out of the boxes, flowers dangling off the edges and roots dangling in the air.

Wakana herself was not particularly interesting, at least in her own opinion. Brown coarse hair, not that tall, and she didn't earn the best marks in school, though she proudly managed to keep her grades in the top hundred of the 2,000 students that attended her school. She was as average as average could be, at least fro m the outside, but in a city where you barely knew the shop owners that you lived above and where every person ignored every other person, she got very little attention.

Her mother peddled most of the morning and afternoon, and vanished in the evenings and stayed away for most of the night. Okinamachi Kokoro was oftentimes semi-concious when she came home, that, or just…sad. Aiko was an invalid, with her limited use of her body, and slow, shaky speech. It was an unarranged agreement between Wakana and her mother; Kokoro would bring the bread, and Wakana would keep it all stable at home. She was never particularly unhappy.

But it was after Aiko's birth that Wakana learnedto smile through anything.

Kokoro had changed, she had been in constant pain, phantom pains the doctor had called it, and she had been exhausted. Oftentimes she would stay in bed for days, before leaving to peddle when the on the barest of food was available. Even that routine changed. Sooner or later, their mother's lack of work caused the money to stop coming in, and with that, food, clothes, and other basic necessities needed human welfare. Her mother was depressed.

So Wakana took it unto herself to smile; smile for her sister and shake off her fragile mother's worries. She worked herself to the bone to keep the threesome in the tiny tenement above the store and restaurant. When her sister cried because their mother snapped at her, Wakana would be there, comforting her sister with a smile, telling jokes and tickling her and laughing and laughing…

Until that day, when she came back from her city-wide trek home (she couldn't afford the bus) and found the store, and consequentially the apartment in flames. Needless to say her mother wasn't home,; she didn't worry about her. But Aiko was. So when Wakana ran past the police line and their abrasive hands into the unstable building, up rickety burned stairs, down a hallway that used to be filled with a line of stuffy closet, but was now an empty building frame and open air, down to the last door, which was still mostly intact and still smoking, to find—

A fiery monster, a demon—the word was slipping her mind at the moment, with its grimy face sucking on her sisters, overwhelming the small head with its wide mouth. The loud slurping was all she could hear, and the trickle of blood at the corner of its mouth all she could see. Barely, just barely, she could hear the stairs collapse, and the police outside shouting her name. She fell hard on her knees and suddenly, green stripes filled her vision. She was puzzled as pain filled her legs as the badly burnt floorboards splintered and cut her legs.

It was fairly easy to ignore the battle between the two figures in the corner of her vision and focus only on the dead eyes of Aiko, who was tossed carelessly in the corner. Dying bits of flame were catching on her clothes, those thin, deformed legs splayed open at impossible angles, the burns on her arms from that…_thing's_ grip, her mouth—no, Wakana couldn't bear to look at little Aiko's mouth. So she looked away, just in time to see exactly who had been wild enough to barge into a burning building.

=0=

"Shit," Rihan cursed loudly, stabbing Nenekirimaru into the weak floorboards as the yokai that had been eluding his grasp, escaped once again. It had been running and hiding, all the while devouring humans and gaining power all throughout Nura-claimed lands. IT had a preference for young, gifted girls, pregnant women, and babies. Rihan had just managed to get a glimpse of the victim this time; usually it was burned to ashes in a 'home fire' like this one.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked around the room, flicking his gaze on the girl in the room, and was surprised to see a large pair of piercing brown eyes staring at him intensely. Her hair was long and plain, and her mouth slightly open, drinking him in. Rihan quickly considered just leaving her there, but at the ominous crack that resulted in half the floor collapsing, he ran over and shoved her out of the way. She screamed and dug long nails into his neck. Rihan dutifully refrained from wincing and she began wailing, leaving her in the somewhat stable hallway. Only one word tore itself from the girl's throat—Aiko.

_That must the dead girl's name,_ he thought. He vanishd when he saw the firefighters enter the building and carry her out.

Rihan refused to linger on it, though her voice and face kept echoing in his mind.

**Wow! Hope you liked that chapter! It's only the first one. I'm actually writing this on paper, but I have a sister in highschool, and she's got honor's English, and Mythology. Do any of you know what that means? An essay almost every night…and there's only one computer. So that mean I won't be one of those incredibly awesome weekly updaters—maybe one every other week, if I'm lucky. Not to mention that she doesn't like fanfiction and she's always looking disapprovingly over my shoulder's if I'm not editing my original story, The Realm of Oblivion, Part 2. (I love writing that, but I hate editing! Oh god, editing is the bane of my existence…) It sorta freaks me out. So that means it's really hard to get on the computer when she's not there T_T…wish me luck.**

**Thanks to Saperia for alerting me as an Author!**

**Oh, and Shayna-18, if you're reading this, let it be known I will b using your ideas, but later on the story I will incorporate them. They are very good. :) Not really feeling the title though… don't take any offense, I just think that there's another story called that…not sure, I'll have to check.**

**As a result, I'll take suggestions for titles, pick my favorites, and maybe if there are enough suggestions, put up a poll…? If there isn't any, I'll just leave as untitled…**

**I really need help with that.**

**YellowWomanontheBrink, out for tonight!**

**(P.S. Just said this, but don't forget to suggest! Otherwise I'll get confused on what's what.)**


	2. First and Out

***New Chapter***

**Hey! YellowWomanontheBrink here!**

**I have just one thing to say…**

**Ho…Ly…Crap!**

**I can't believe how many people reviewed, and on a kinda sucky first chapter! I love you all! Thanks to Mahiro Ali,Oshino7, Kamui Sakurai. Double thanks to Elza Eldaniella 1 and fallendestinyxx for favoriting… on the first chapter! Quadruple thanks to AnimeRockzzz for going the whole nine yards and fav'ing, alerting, and reviewing! You get a cookie! Thanks to stavstrelley for alerting! I hope I can meet all your expectations… **

**You have to understand; this is the biggest positive result I've ever gotten on the first chapter, ever, in my entire life. Not on fictionpress, not on wattpad, not on bookrix (yes I have stuff published across all those sites) and definitely not on fanfiction.**

**I got enough time to write this up because my sister was at a track competition…yay running!**

**To answer KamuiSakurai about Rihan being ooc (just a little)… that was just a slip-up of mine. See, I have no idea how to write him, I'm only just adjusting. Not to mention I don't know how to write him slightly depressed…I imagine he'd be a little closed off.**

**I just went straight to typing more up…Right, now, onward with the story!**

**And so…BEGIN!**

`Chapter 2`

When a fireman came and hauled her bodily down the lift they had set up next to the building, all Wakana could see was the black body bag being hauled ungracefully across the floor as they were carried down. When the dizzying movement of the lift stopped, she was grabbed and crushed by her mothers arms; Kokoro was sobbing hard, tears running down her face, her nose red and irritated, her yukata ruffled. Her cart lay discarded on the corner, flowers scattered everywhere as newpeople and civilians who had stopped to look trampled on their living. It hit the young girl then—she and her mother had nothing. Nothing.

Not being officially employed, they hadn't had abank account, mall their money had been burned. No clothes, no food, no _home_, and worst of all, no Aiko to watch. What would she live for now?

At that moment, her mother spotted the bag, being formally lifted into the ambulance, and clutched her slightly taller daughter, dropping to her knees. It was loud; and paramedic began to approach her, asking questions she could not answer, much to fast. The world spun around her as people with cameras got in her face, loud and demanding things…her mother clutched her shoulder and she fell to the ground, hitting her hips on the harsh concrete curb.

Wakana ran her fingers through Kokoro's hair and waved off, as calmly as possible, which was not very calmly, and tore through the people, to the ambulance.

_Let me ride…let me see my sister! Is she okay! Is she okay!_

A voice rang through the air. Was that her? Was that her voice that rang through the air so filled with hopelessness and desperation? She looked up to see the sad face of the paramedic, look down on her, then close the door.

The next time she would see her beloved little sister would be when she spread her ashes in the wind of a little park down the street from her school.

It was in this park, a week later that Wakana met a strange man, up in a tree. Having no where to live, Wakana had taken to sleeping in the park, near a small plot of flowers she grew for her mother at the base of a plum tree. Across a small field of grass lay a small bunch of sakura trees, and in the upmost branches was a man…woman? From the distance Wakana was at, she really couldn't tell, and the figure had long, dark hair she could easily be envious of. She started across the fields; it really was miracle ho the person got up there considering how far off the ground the first branch was.

Now at the base of the tree, she looked straight up through the dying flowery branches to see—now clearly a man, moping. He was munching on the cherries, premature though they may be.

"You might want to careful and look at the fruit but you put it in your mouth; some of them have worms," she said in a sing-song voice.

=0=

"You might want to careful and look at the fruit but you put it in your mouth; some of them have worms," a slightly mocking voice called up.

Rihan was so startled he almost fell out of his tree. Below him, peering curiously up at him with a coy smile was a girl with big brown eyes and a loose flowery summer dress.

_What did she say about worms ?_he thought, and then asked her so.

Slightly giggling, she said, "I think you might want to careful and look at the fruit but you put it in your mouth; some of them have _worms._"

Rihan noticed she had a strong, slightly high-pitched voice, and he inspected the cherry he was holding…and saw a thin clear head poking its head through a hole in the solid red skin.

"Eehh," he grimaced, and he heard the girl laugh. He glared down and saw she couldn't possibly be much older than thirteen or fourteen.

She placed her hand thoughtfully on her chin, still grinning.

"You know, if you're trying to hide," she began," you picked a terrible place. Your hair is so black I could see you from a distance, and it's a little ridiculous to find a grown man hiding in a tree."

Rihan pouted and leaned his back against the trunk, inspecting another cherry.

"It's fine, I don't live here, so no one I know will be able to find me. And I'm not hiding, I'm gracefully avoiding."

He cocked one golden eye down at the girl. "Who're you anyway?" She grinned fully up at him.

"My names Okinamachi Wakana."

Her face was somewhat familiar…

=0=

Wakana watched as the man in the tree retied his long, long hair and grinned a little.

"Well, Wakana-chan, it's nice to meet you. But"—he paused and narrowed his eyes, frowning. "I've got to go," and before she could properly respond, he jumped down from the tree and left with a shout of "Sayonara!"

She sighed. Nowadays, it seemed everyone frowned (and left her). And that man was…he was so familiar. But the man in her memory was so obviously something supernatural—a yokai if her research was to believed.

"So it must have been my imagination," she concluded half-heartedly out loud.

Ever since her sister died a few weeks ago, one could say, Wakana had an obsession. She could deny it to her classmates, call it merely a passion, but most people would digress.

Wakana marched over, slightly out-put, to her favorite ume tree, brushing past the flowers and flopped unceremoniously at its roots, wrenching an enormous book from a cheap bag. It read "Demons, kami, and other supernaturtal: a Complete guide to yokai, kami, mononoke, ayakashi and the like." She had already read the whole (stolen) book three times, finding only three or two paragraphs on the particular ayakashi that had saved her. Or at least, he fit the physical description as close as possible, with the exception of hair color.

Through her obsessive research, she also discovered what had happened to her sister, though it thoroughly disgusted her; the devouring of the little girl's ikigumo. What she still didn't know was why.

Wakana stayed there, under the tree, until late that night, when the moon was high in the sky, barely shining through the clouds, city and apartment lights twinkling down the sidewalk. Loud teenagers walked down the sidewalk a little ways off from the grassy section, pushing and shoving and cursing.

The barely teenage girl pushed clumsily climbed the thick, rough branches of the tree, pulling out a charity sweatshirt from her bag's depths and balled it p, resting her head and enjoying the cool breeze on her skin. She would sleep in the park again tonight. She knew her mother was out on the streets 'working'. She didn't want to be there to witness whatever her mom's new job was, at least until the flowers bloomed properly.

=0=

Despite Rihan's best efforts, Kubinashi still managed to find him.

Crap.

"Rihan-sama, we've been looking for you for almost a week now, you just vanished again after we approached that shrine, you know that no one appreciates it when you just use your fear like that and disappear on us. Let's go home now, okay?"

Rihan frowned and followed Kubinashi as he reverted back to his yokai form as the sun set. He grimaced, not particularly looking forward to the 4 hr journey back to Ukiyoe, only to be followed immediately by being chewed out by his father, then the rest of the council.

Damn. He really , really, didn't want to go home.

But his silent wishery was in vain, as he quickly embarked on the long journey home.

A few hours later, when they reached the outskirts of the city outside Ukiyoe, the two slowed. Kubinashi flicked a gaze on the Nidaime, unsurprised to see a brooding expression on the other's face. He was rather unsurprised; though Rihan had brightened up some, he was still a very mopey character.

They turned almost robotically down the street, basking in an awkward silence. The neckless yokai sighed; it was nearing that time of the year; the anniversary of Yamabuki's disappearance…he hated this time of year, and almost wanted to hate Yamabuki for just disappearing like she did.

It would not have been the first time Kubinashi speculated what went on in women's heads when they take such drastic measures. And they say men are blind to love.

"Rihan-sama," the began awkwardly, searching his mind for anything to talk about, and casting his gaze quickly onto a pitiful-looking tree, which bought up a picture in his head, "who was that, er, girl you were talking to?" He could have face=palmed for how…bad a question that was to ask.

Much to his surprise (and relief) Rihan cracked a grin. "She told I ate worms."

At his subordinates confused face, he grinned wider and explained.

"I was hiding in a tree and eating the cherries, she told me I looked ridiculous and said that a lot of them have worms. I had been there for hours…I don't even want to think about what I put in my mouth."

Kubinashi had to stifle a laugh at Rihan's slip-up.

"And then she just walked away; or rather, I left, I was still hiding from you, you know." Rihan's face fell a little. "Okinamachi Wakana…interesting person."

"What do you mean by that?"

His smirk returned. "She didn't stare. Most young girl's her age would've. In fact, she seemed rather impatient, and still stayed to talk to me. I felt like I was under a microscope, she looked at me so intensely…"

At Rihan's seriously thoughtful face, Kubinashi let out a rather nervous laugh.

"Perhaps we should get a move on…"

"Mmm, sure."

=0=

At home, Rihan was greeted by his seriously pissed off father, and just to make his day suck, the rest of the upper echelon of the yokai clans.

"Perhaps you might have forgotten Rihan, but you've had several things _you,_ as the Nidaime of the Nura clan, are responsible for, that you have so carelessly shirked off. You know…"

Rihan stopped listening as his father got really worked up on his absence, and poking their heads through the thin doors of he front yard. He frowned at them and watched as they all sunk quickly back into the house, no doubt listening through the doors.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Absolutely," He replied back in an unarguable tone.

Nurarihyon sighed and waved his hopeless son off, not believing a word out of his son's mouth.

"Be gone with you, then."

=0=

~The Next Morning~

Rihan sighed as he lay down on his mat, breathing evenly and softly, slightly wishing he wans't by himself at moments like this. He turned his head and watched the sun come up out of his paneled window.

For some reason, he couldn't get the girl in the park out of his mind…Wakana…

Where had he seen her before?

And suddenly, it hit him. The fire. The girl covered in ashes, sobbing over a dead body.

_She looks a lot different when she's crying…_

He shook his head, and lay it down on the pillow, continuing to gaze up at the sunrise.

**=0=**

***Nervousnervousnervousnervous***

**I hope this turned okay…I'm so afraid I messed it up…**

**Don't forget to suggest titles!**

**YellowWomanontheBrink, out for tonight!**

**Luvyuallbunches!**


	3. Second and later Walking

**Wow! Great Response last chapter! And I got a couple of titles from people, I'll list them in the Author's note on the bottom, you people tell me what you thinks sounds best, or suggest another one, I'm still open!**

**Don't wanna clog up too much space here like I usually do (INSPIRATION came the other night, whacked me on the head and told me to stop sullying her brilliant ideas with my ramblings. ) I'm really sorry for not being able to answer your reviews personally…**

**And so…BEGIN!**

8 months later, Wakana trudged to the public bathroom near the swing sets of the park to change out of her tight and rather uncomfortable school uniform, careful not to touch either the smelly toilet nor the mossy, moldy stall walls. She dug hastily through her bag, which was hung on the lone wobbly hook attached to the door, and pulled on a pair of jeans and an ill fitting t-shirt. Though she would never admit it, she had stolen the clothes from a girl's gym locker during school, doubting it would be missed; this girl had so much clothe shoved into the tiny square cages they called lockers it couldn't even be closed.

She pulled out a simple belt and belted it around the shirt, forming a somewhat fashionable tunic, and then pulling her thick sweatshirt over that. Rushing out of the stall, she unbraided her hair and ran a small comb, shoplifted from a convenience store through her hair, bumping carelessly into people on her way out.

_What would Okaa-san say when she found out all this stealing you do?_ A little voice asked in her head.

_What Okaa-san doesn't know won't kill her,_ she silently vowed back.

For the first time in almost a week, she would meet up with her mother. Normally she would have showered at school and changed her clothes there, but they were running inspections through the halls and if the school found out she was living without her mother in the park, they'd be obligated to put her on welfare.

Pulling her hair up into a messy bun, tripped over the cracked sidewalk and landed face first into the unforgiving concrete. Her bag burst open and scattered all over the grass, and with that the five thousand yen she had earned doing her classmate's homework. The bills fluttered away on the chill breeze, and Wakana could almost cry watching them float away as she chased ungracefully after them.

After a good forty minutes of chasing her stuff, and recovering maybe 200 yen, she sighed and blew the hair out of her face, blinking away tears.

_Okaa-san's going to be so disappointed in me…I knew she said she was going to find a job, and I swore I was going to help her…_

She took a deep shuddering breath and scanned the crowd for her distinctly shabby-looking mother—the sloppy pixie cut brown hair, the narrow, slanted dark shiny eyes, surrounded by thick shadows, the scary-skinny underfed look—ah there she was.

Kokoro looked slightly dizzy and very out-of-place in the crowd of clean cut kids and their parents, dressed sharply and quaintly. The woman herself lookedlike a drifter—poorly fed, thin, and slightly sour smelling. But that was just her natural look, at least, after Aiko was born that was her normal look. Wakana could just remember a time, years ago; before her mother had violently chopped off all her hair in a passionate manic fit.

_No need to think of such things now, Wakana,_ she silently chastised herself as she gravitated towards her mother, gripping the thin arms firmly but gently as she led the older woman towards the quieter trees.

"Musume…Musume!" Kokoro shook off Wakana's hand and smile her gaunt grin. "I got a job, and I found us a house!"

Wakana raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Really, okaa-san? You found a job!"

It was as if years of energy leaked into her mother's face. "Yeah, I did! They'll even let us live there, and even though the wage is low, as long as you're willing to work too, I'll be able to pay bus fair so you don't have to transfer schools! All we have to do is hitchhike there, because I assure you Musume-san, these legs are definitely not up for a three-day-long non-stop trek again!"

Wakana laughed, a genuine, pure laugh! It had been so long since Wakana had seen her mom, well, act like a mom. It was a little hard to take her seriously now, after five years of relapsing depression.

"It's near a mountain, all we have to do is serve the tourists and make sure the forest stays in good condition all year. It's physical work, but there's a good-sized city just a 45 minute walk away, so I can still sell flowers in addition." Her mother rambled on and on excitedly.

"What mountain is it? I might have heard of it" , her mother's enthusiasm leaking into her.

"Mt. Nejireme."

At this all the color drained out of the young girl's face.

"Mt…Nejireme? The haunted mountain?"

Wakana wasn't obsessed with yokai for nothing; she knew all about the beast yokai that lived on the mountain: Gyuuki. But she couldn't bring herself to bring a damper on the happy mood.

_Maybe…I'll find whoever it was that saved me. Yokai have to assosciate with each other, right?_

Right?

=0=

Rihan was sitting, smoking in his room, thinking about random things; whatever happened to pass through his mind.

Surprisingly, the one thing that couldn't leave his mind was the girl with the worms. Or rather, the girl that had warned him a little too late about the worms he was eating. Her brown hair, her brown eye and pink skin, her pleasant smile that screamed something deeper.

And then her sobbing form over the deceased form of her sister. Her red eyes, mouth open in abject horror. Her long hair covered in fallen plaster, the air full of soot. Blood on her fingers.

_She's a stronger person than you are,_ a little voice said in his head.

"At least I only have happy memories of Yamabuki…I can't ever have stood to see her that way," he said to the tendrils of smoke curling around his face. A small shudder ran through his body at the thought of it. _At least in the other cases, there were no survivors…they were all lonely and…and.._

It really was quite depressing; he was almost relieved when then young yuuki-onna burst into the cheerily, not noticing the nidaime sitting quietly in the middle of the room until she walked right into hi and squealed.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! Oh my goodness, Rihan-sama, I'm so sorry!" She flew up on her feet and brushed off his reassurances that he was fine, pulling him up with her.

"It's fine, Tsurara, really, just relax…"

The young yokai grinned nervously before hastily grabbing her now empty basket and ran out into the hallway, bumping into the various yokai that trolled the main house.

Rihan sighed, and wondered exactly what the hell he was going to do with himself. It was as if his mind was cursed to think solely of depressing thoughts. And he was sure she was fine anyway. She had looked happy, so that had to mean she was fine right?

_Right…_

Damnit all!

Why was he lingering on her so much anyway? All that she did to him was tell him he ate worms…and watch her sister get killed in a burning house…by a yokai…in front of her.

He sighed again, trying to think of more trivial matters to occupy his mind, with of course, nothing coming to mind. He was comfortable at home, but just couldn't relax; it was going to be the end of him, he swore.

_This is why I spend so much time out of the house._

And he decided to do just that, slipping quietly out the door into the hallway, out the front door to the middle of town, where he subtly changed to his human form and walked to the train station a couple street over.

_Might as well run an inspection…s'not like I have anything better to do._

The restlessness was really getting to him.

=0=

Wakana really didn't know what she was supposed to be excited for. As of right now, she and her mother were sitting in some random dude's car, driving to a random mountain that her mother had discovered on her wanderings, and found people that were willing to hire.

In her lap sat a large bunch of flowers, and Kokoro held a box full of bulbs and dirt. Her gaunt face was smiling widely, and she continuously thanked the random man, who had failed to introduce himself. Eventually he dumped the two of them and their excessively plants on the side of the road, instructing them to turn and keep walking straight.

"You'll eventually hit a town, weird looking, tourist attraction place."

"Thank you, again!" Kokoro called out before dragging her much less enthusiastic daughter.

Wakana was now starting to regret taking all of those books at once, along with all the flowers of the plot she had grown in the park. Her shoulder was killing her, and her arms hurt, and the fragrance from the flowers was making her head spin. She was beginning to want to take another lift from a car, though she knew the risk of those psychos that would probably cart her halfway across the country, rather than her original destination.

Of course, that didn't stop her ultimately lazy desire as she trekked after her much more energetic mother.

"Okaa-san! Can you *huff* slow down a little!"

Kokoro shook her head yelling back about psychos on the highway. Wakana gave her mother, who had stopped to wait for her, a nervous grin before turning her thoughts on the hypocrisy of it all. And after brooding on the hypocrisy, she turned to her favorite obsession (which had been her little sister, but had changed to a burning drive to avenge her.)

Now it was yokai. She was infatuated, and from what little information she knew about the one that had failed to save her sister, she derived this much: the terrifying shape engulfed in flames was somewhat similar (though…different?) from a picture of the _basan_ she'd seen in the book. She had been surprised; she assumed it was some kind of elegant bird, only to discover it was a chicken. The illustration didn't have it engulfed in flames, but it was certainly breathing a long gasp of fire a similar color to the one that had sucked her sisters innards out.

_Of all the terrifying things in the world, it has to be a fire-breathing chicken?_

So she had that down. The biggest challenge however, was trying to place who exactly that man was….

_Nope, _she warned herself,_ stay focused on the investigative thread you've got now, don't go sticking your head down dead ends._

So far, she had been drawn to a trail of arsons that led in a tangle across a limited district…it was an oddity, so to say. I t was as if it would be close to moving beyond an invisible line, before it turned tail and headed in it's previous direction. It was a big squiggle on her map…spontaneous and patternless. It almost made her afraid of where it was going to strike next.

She hurried forward just slightly faster in hopes of catching up with her energetic (for now) mother. And as she walked, things passed through her head. Mostly about her mother and yokai, yokai and her mother. And perhaps occasionally school, but not often, unless she was thinking up an excuse about why she had missed a couple days.

Three hours later, the pair had ended up in a town with an ominous dark mountain ;lurking over the skyline. She slept in a tree off the path of a trail leading up the mountain, her mother napping peacefully at the base. The two dutifully ignored the rabid howls echoing into the empty night…

The next morning, Kokoro had changed her clothes and walked off, babbling about enrolling Wakana in the small school the town had. When she had questioned her mother on how to get to the new room they were renting she had pointed simply:

"Up. That's all! The shop is the last one on the base of the mountain, okay? I know you're smart, you can figure it out! I have been given a brilliant daughter!"

Her mother continued down the path, talking excitedly to herself about meadows and flowers and school. Sometimes, Wakana wondered who was the adult in the family. But she merely smiled and waved her mother away, dragging all her luggage up the dirt path with her.

She approached a wide flat house eventually, with a flashy-looking stand a little ways off. The walls were a flat, dirty looking brown, made of plaster that upon closer inspection revealed water marks all over the corners of the house where the plaster met the floor. She walked around hesitantly, touching the wall until she came to a porch where an old man stood waiting in the door.

"Saw you coming up the trail, girl. Where's your mother? Said she had some work she was willing to be doing for this old man."

Wakana smiled politely and bowed a little. "Yes, my mother and I are going to be your boarders. Thank you very much for allowing us to share your home. Okaa-san said she was going to grow flowers and sell them; she told me you have very fertile land here."

The old man nodded curtly.

"Well? What are you doing? Come inside and leave your flowers on the porch. We will…get acquainted with one another."

Wakana smiled brightly and thanked him, letting him lead her inside.

**Ugggghhhhhhhh! This was a failure! A filler chapter ! And not much even happened! *Pulls out hair in frustration* (Just kidding I love my hair way too much.)**

**Anyone know how to spell Gyuuki's mountain? Please tell if I spelled it incorrectly (which I probably did—I haven't read nuramago in a bit; haven't gotten much chance to go on the computer)**

**And about the basan: it's a firebreathing chicken. I changed just a little bit of things (japanese mythology is the weirdest thing I have ever read). Can't blame me, and it would fit into the manga-verse anyway. **

**I'm really sorry for taking so incredibly long to update, for a few reasons:**

**1) I had the NJASK—New Jersey Assessment of Skills and Knowledge. Damn State Testing..**

**2) I spent forever trying to take apart my bed frame…four pieces are left, and my arms are killing me.**

**3) My sister has honors English. And mythology. And advanced History. Hello essays!**

**4) The new book to the Gone series just came out, and I read the amazing works of Khaled Hosseini. As a result, I had to re-read the series and I'm currently tearing through 'Fear' and 'A Thousand Splendid Suns'. These books are amazing, check them out!**

***Sigh* Guess those aren't valid reasons, eh? **

**I love the titles you brilliant people have suggested me, and I'll put up a poll (might be fucked up; never used that feature before).**

**I have never had a story so popular as this one. I give you my gratitude.**

**Love to:**

**Pika318—and I have read your story before—twice. It was very nicely written. **

**Savstrelley—I really appreciate your thoughtfulness of thinking up all those titles for me. **

**Thanks to KamuiSakurai, Mahiro Ali, **

**Crystale no Otaku—I love your ideas for the titles…I suppose you could vote for your own, eh?**

**Poll should be up, please vote!**

**~YellowWomanontheBrink, out for tonight! **


	4. Moving In, To be Taken

**Hello. New chapter? So sorry it's been taking so long to get these up, but the teachers decided to dump an assload of work on me, and my sister got it worse. I could barely get on the computer to actually do my homework, like I'll actually be able to edit my original stories or write fanfiction…T_T So I'd had resort to simply reading one-shots every once in a while. Don't worry though. This is one story that will never be abandoned. :) And school's over now (gazing lovingly at my middle school diploma) so I should be able to write more. Summer band starts on Monday though...expect the most updates during July, cause in August I've got marching band.**

** Sorry to keep going on like this, but I've heard that there is a hacker going around deleting accounts (two I know have already vanished). Does anyone know if this is true? I know there was one in 2009, and I think back in 2005… *Afraid***

**Let us begin!**

The house was quaint and simple, no fancy decorations but for the odd photograph here and there. The man ignored Wakana's staring as he led her through the humble abode. He was completely unsociable, unsmiling, and shuffled so quickly Wakana had to jog just a little to catch up with him. With his back turned, she stopped and took a good look at.

He wasn't really much, with a round face and a drag in his left footstep, causing him to limp heavily. His thin salt and pepper hair was balding in the front, his face heavily marred by wrinkles and a long thin scar across his chin. Abruptly, he stopped, and Wakana bumped into him.

"My daughter and her husband sometimes stop by and stay with me; this is their room. You are not to be going in here," he commanded harshly. Wakana smiled and nodded her consent.

"Of course…" she paused and looked at him expectantly, chewing her lip when she realized she had not even had the courtesy of asking his name. Or even introducing herself.

_Then again,_ that tiny, mean part of her whispered, _ the Ossan didn'teven give you the opportunity._

"Oh! Forgive me! I'm Okinamachi Wakana," she said, bowing respectfully, looking up, clearly expecting his name in return.

He merely harrumphed and limped on, not stopping or looking back as he spoke.

"Mizaki Takeshi. Follow, let me show you where you and your mother will be staying."

=0=

As Wakana dealt with Mizaki, Kokoro had reached the town in no time, heading back from the local school registration, happy, a rare feeling for her nowadays. She fingered the thin chain around her neck. She walked up the haunted hill with a bounce in her step, stopping to look at trees and wave at people as they came out on their porches to enjoy the afternoon, now that it wasn't ridiculously early morning. After almost being run over by a careless teenage boy on a bicycle, she had taken to walking by the side of the road. Eventually, the pink and purple and green trees faded into darker, more somber colors as she neared the base of the mountain. The houses became fields, and the people lessened to nothing until she was walking by herself up the dusty path. Her pants were light brown, the same colour as the dirt, where they had been dark blue washed out jeans before. Her short hair tickled her forehead.

And suddenly, her walking slowed, and her big dark eyes; identical to her dead daughter's, fell half-lidded. Her fingering of the chain stopped to nothing and the slim, rough hand with the dirty fingernails dropped lifelessly to her side.

_Come here,_ a voice she didn't know was speaking to her whispered.

Across the street, surrounded by the rough dark trunks of the two close trees, stood a beautiful man. His looks were almost unreal, and blurred. Though Kokoro did not see such miniscule details in her impassive state.

As she crossed the narrow road, her hand rose and fingered the chain much more roughly, in a desperate sort of way as she stumbled and landed on her knees at the images feet. She mumbled under her breath, grasping at the shadowy, wispy legs. Though under control, that last bit of rationality screamed with fear.

"I-I should have been there. Shouldn't I have?" She breathed out, mumbling things and curses. Her gaze was focused solely on his knees; she did not see the thick black coils of mist rolling off his shoulders. Nor did she see his malicious smirk.

"Oh…I'm so sorry for loosing her."

Perhaps, the tiny bit of rationality remaining with Kokoro, she knew something was wrong. But the effects of the yokai's fear and the post-martum depression had effectively shattered any rational thought the woman might have had.

The yokai tilted her chin up, looking at her glassy-eyed gaze. He smirked viciously, and then smiled gently and comfortably.

"Would you like to redeem yourself? The one you had lost will be pleased."

Kokoro had a sudden bad feeling, which was soon crushed by the yokai's fear. She nodded, and bowed, her forehead touching the ground as she had not yet risen from her knees. "Please grace me with your name, I am Okinamachi Kokoro."

Long, soft hands reached down and pulled her chin up to face him.

"You may call me Amano."

Obediently, she stood, chain slipping from her grasp to rest between her sizeable breasts, a small round pendant that clicked open visible. Two pictures, both her daughters, lay in the locket.

"Yes, Amano-sama. Let me redeem my sins Amano-sama. I must do so."

With shuffling, dead footsteps, Kokoro satumbled into town with a phantom. There, halfhearted, she bought a ticket a hopped on a bus, a phantom walking behind her with wicked footsteps, murmuring quietly into her ear.

=0=

Unknown to the yokai, a long red arm dangled from the branch of the tree where the encounter had occurred. The _akateko _wriggled away, hand leading and forearm dragging after. Something was up. Its master had to know.

The long red arm scrambled through the treetops, elbow stubbornly hidden in the treetops as it passed hundreds of arms identical as they dropped systematical down from the trees when it passed by. The trees rustled loudly with their movement as they writhed with their awakening.

After an arduous journey to the top of the mountain, it hung limp at the egde of the bare clearing. The darkness was stifling in the viney area. The bright red hand flicked its wrist carelessly and suddenly, a small piece of paper fluttered down to the ground, with a vague message.

A sharp contrast to the bright red hands now surrounding him, an oldish yokai picked the paper up deftly, skimming the message, no change of expression coming across his face.

_A pest on the mountain, _ it read in thin, wispy handwriting that looked as iff the brush had barely touched the sheet. _It is looking for your approval._

Closing his eyes, Gyuuki placed the paper on the ground, watching through the barely open slits as it dissolved in the eerie wind.

=0=

The room Mizaki had shown Wakana was somewhat spacious, yet bare. The windows were actually intact, though spiderwebs shined in the corners of the frames and walls. Two flat mats were folded neatly, along with bedding and thin pillows. Boxes were piled up against the wall adjacent to the windows, and the floor was a gray hardwood. She threw her arms out and spun in the room, the empty space of it exhilarating. The quiet air settled.

Mizaki had left her alone in the room after scowling and ordering her not to open the boxes. As if what was in them would interest her anyway, but she had merely agreed obediently, just to appease the unpleasant man.

She ran to the corner of the room (ah! To be able to run! Inside!) and flipped out her mat, watching a small amount of dust flung off the thin mat. Just looking at the bed, a feeling of exhaustion came over her in waves, and she flopped down on it, unmade and everything, and fell into a light pleasant sleep.

Said unpleasant old man was watching the forests going all the way up Mt. Nejireme. Though there was no breeze to speak of, the treetops waved as if moved as if they were hairs on a brush when one runs their fingers hard over the bristles, bending and folding. He sighed, the sound near inaudible in the rustling of the trees.

Mizaki gazed down at the flowers and plants the young girl –_Wakana, was it?—_had left scattered on his porch. Ignoring the mountain for now, he turned tail and headed into the silent house.

Through the thin doors, from down the small hallways, he could hear soft feminine snores.

_Talk about pathetic, _he thought, _ she comes here and falls asleep. Kids these days._

Of course, there really was no reason to blame the young woman, he just needed something t occupy his mind. Even though he loved this mountain, life on the base of Mt. Nejireme could easily get a little dull.

He breathed heavily and shuffled to the kitchen, dragging along his bad leg and carelessly throwing open a cabinet and grabbing a small jar of tea leaves, putting a pot on the stove to prepare himself a cup. The shuttering of the leaves outside intrigued him and he looked outside again.

Gyuuki.

Ever since he was a child and his father looked down on him and told him the terrifying tale of Gyuuki, and told him firmly, _don't go into the forest,_ Mizaki had seen the trees wave unnaturally in a dark, ominous breeze whenever something happened on the mountain. Especially the young teenagers that dared each other to go to the top at night. Rarely did these daredevils return, and oftentimes, they were witless and shivering, begging and unknown man, seen only by them for mercy. A fair few of them were injured too.

He feared the yokai on the mountain. And he knew there were more than one, for he had seen several, red hands that dangled from the treetops eerily, and beast claws that came for him when he tended the forest in the evening time. Viscious howls often tore through the night, lulling him to sleep.

What a shame, for such a beautiful mountain to be tainted by such vengeance. And now he was alone; his wife, gone, children long since abandoned him, opening his doors to random girls and women who begged for shelter. The truth was, he didn't think he could carry on anymore, walking all the way about the mountain, tending to various tasks.

These girls, they would stay for a day, promising to aid him, and then run as soon as night fell and they had the unfortunate luck of staying awake to hear the yokai wake.

=0=

Kokoro stood in front of the mirror of a dingy motel bathroom, fixing big hair and applying generous volumes of makeup to cover up her dingy flaws. The one who had introduced himself as Amano stood behind her, hands grasping the bare shoulders of her torn up shirt, which exposed as much skin as possible. The sun was setting outside of the room, steadily turning the light filtering in from the bottom of the door darker and darker until she was standing in shadows. She was barefeet; her big dirty sneakers to the side of her, shoved carelessly under the sink. 'Amano' stroked her hair carefully. She looked back at him with dull eyes, though a dark twinkle was visible as she awaited his next order with eagerness.

**And that's that! I'm so sorry if you're a bit confused; all will be explained later! So now I end up introducing OC's. I'm sorry, but they are necessary, as they don't offer us much on Wakana at all! Sorry there isn't much RihanXWakana in this chapter, but I promise you there will be a lot more once they officially meet. **

**I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes, I literally typed this up this morning in 45 minutes.**

**And also:**

**I AM SO SORRY FOR THE MIDGET CHAPTER THAT THIS IS!**

**Really, I make you wait for a month and then I give a midget chapter? Why me? I swear, that there will be no more insanely long-ass waits like that, it was the end of the year, I'm so sorry...I'll _try _to make them longer, can't guarantee I can. *Rubs chin thoughtfully***

**Poll for title will be up until the next time I update; then the title will change. Please don't forget to vote! Or if you're anonymous, tell me your vote in a review. Simple as that. Please. So far only three people have voted...**

**Until next time~**

**YellowWomanontheBrink**


	5. Discovery and Atonement

**Hello. **

**Summer homework will be the death of me. Who the fuck assigns two books and then two essays and then two double-entry journals on every fucking chapter for two **_**classics?**_** Over the summer? Are you kidding me? Anyone ever read **_**Things Fall Apart**_ **by Chinua Achebe? The other book is **_**Of Mice and Men**_** and that is easy enough to understand…but Things Fall Apart is so damn sad. That is what's killing me. And then I have this huge ass logic and advanced Geometry packet for Honors math. I don't even like math! I hate it! And then my next-year English teacher is a fucking psycho, my sister had her last year and she failed her entire freshman class on their essay last year! The very one I'm struggling to write! **

**DAMN YOU HONORS CLASSES! Making my life hell and I haven't even had you yet! Luckily there isn't any summer projects for history or biology, or I'd kill something. And then my marching band music is so damn hard (our show is **_**West Side Story**_**—I don't even like West Side Story!) I can't even remember the intro! But I refuse to lose to the stand still band this year! Arrrrghhhhh! **__

**But you guys are awesome, I should stop bitching at you guys…with every review I get you brighten my day! :D Sorry for the long ass rant! Let us begin now1 **

**Enjoy!**

When Wakana woke up, the first thing she did was sneeze; there was so much dust in the mat she had been sleeping on. After the dust in the air settled, she squinted at the bright sunlight that streamed onto her face from the windows. It was probably early morning, if she were to judge from the color of the sky, which was a brilliant red. She stood up and stretched, hearing the bones in her hips, knees, and spine crack loudly in the silence.

Slowly she padded silently from the room, unsurprised to see Mizaki sitting at the table, a small breakfast dish laid in front of him. She also noticed he had been considerate enough to set out a dish for herself and her mother. And so she entered the room, greeted him nervously, and began to eat, settling into an awkward silence. When he began to leave the table, she garnered the courage to ask him a question, one that had been on her mind since she came in and had not seen her mother.

"Mizaki-san?" she queried quietly. At his slight nod of acknowledgement, she continued. "Have you seen my mother this morning?"

He grunted out, "I haven't seen her since last afternoon, girl. I expect you know where she would have gone?"

Wakana paled and tried to keep her face straight as worry for her mother crept into her mind. She tried to smile appreciatively, though her face betrayed her worry.

_ It's probably nothing….maybe she got lost…she used to vanish all the time, she probably knows what she's doing…maybe I should go find her…_

She hurriedly excused herself from the table, mind flickering for only a second at the mess of plates she had left, before she hastily showered and pulled on a baggy set of clothes..

"I'm going to look for her, okay? I promise I'll be back to start working…"

She didn't wait for him to grunt his consent, as she was already out the door, racing up the dirt path, terribly worried for where she would find her mother.

_If Kokoro doesn't know the way back, someone could take advantage of her!_ She thought, racing downhill and tripping over her feet on the slope; she landed in the dusty path face first, her legs over her head in a rather comic position. Tears sprung from the corner of her eyes at the pain of her back twisting.

"Ughhh…" she moaned, sitting up at the bottom of the path and sitting up again, not even bothering to brush the dirt off of her dress. Wakana stoically set off down the path towards the town at the base of Mt. Nejireme.

As she appeared, several people waved at her; they apparently remembered her from the day before. Ignoring the uncertainty and fear she felt, she smiled uneasily back at them, occasionally stopping to ask them about her mother. As the responses piled up, she grew more nad more frightened at the prospect.

"Okinamachi-san? Why, I haven't seen her since last night, before I went in. She said she wasn't feeling well and a young man—quite handsome I remember, offered to escort her to a hospital in the next town over," the old woman at the fruit stand had told

"Your okaa-san? Well, she was stumbling a little with a an, said she was going out. I assumed you would know and didn't worry myself," A young mother swining her baby on a porch had told her.

The farther and farther she got away from the base of the mountain, the mor accounts of Kokoro she came across.

"She was acting quite strangely…"

"She was with a man."

_ So Okaa-chan was with a guy, it seems, and maybe she was drunk. She definitely didn't get all the way up the mountain, people stopped seeing her near the house closest to the town. Sooo… _she pondered, rubbing her arms nervously in the now-bustling morning. Kids her age dressed in uniform stared at her strangely, but Wakana didn't worry herself. She wouldn't begin until next week anyway.

She rubbed her arms again, nervously looking around the growing crowds, finally taking note of her appearance. She wasn't wearing a high school uniform, she was dirty, her hair was dirty, and she probably had red eyes from holding back tears of worry.

She probably looked like a druggy. Perfect.

So she wandered around, looking for her mother around the town, trying to find someone willing to give an underage girl a lift to the town over. After all, it seemed that was where Kokoro—

_No, _she hastily corrected herself,_ that man Okaa-san was with took her._

She refused to believe her drunk mother would go somewhere, _anywhere_, with a man. Alone, Wakana was willing to accept, but a man was beyond her bubble of comforting thoughts.

The hours began to pass and Wakana realized that wandering the town would get her nowhere at all. It was fool hardy to believe that a random person would be willing to give her a lift when it was a weekday morning—most of the people in suburbs like this worked in neighboring cities.

_Okay, so now I do the logical thing._

She headed back through the town to the path that would lead her to the base of the mountain.

=0=

Kokoro awoke in a trashy hotel room, naked. She hurt, her breasts hurt, her lips hurt…down _there_ hurt. Her short hair was sticky when she raised her hand to feel it; and the covers of the bed she half-lay on was mussed, most of it hanging onto the floor. She couldn't remember anything, but as she became slightly more conscious things began to return to her.

"Uggghhh…" she moaned and threw herself off the bed, stumbling and trying to regain her balance and failing when she met the dirty carpet. She didn't think she could find the energy to stand again.

The door opened, and slow muffled footsteps reached her ears. She blearily opened one eye to look at polished shoes.

"My, my, woman, what _have _you done?"

_Amano…Amano did something to me…_

"Amano-sama, I beg of you, please help me!" She crawled over, feeling the roughness of the floor on her bare chest. It hurt to be lying on her stomach, it squashed her breasts into her chest. "I…I think I've done something terrible, Amano-sama."

He knelt down and pulled her up; she immediately leaned against him, grasping the much taller man's forearms.

"Ah, yes you have you wicked woman. But first of all, are you afraid?"

Her eyes were wide and dilated. "Yes…but why must you ask? Are you not going to help me? I don't know where I am! I left Wakana…she'll worry!"

And then her head began to hurt, the world spun around her and she clutched the man tighter. His voice faded in and out of her ears, curls of the fuzzy smoke she had been unable to see before visible now before her.

_Something is wrong! I know something is wrong with this man._

Kokoro forced herself into true consciousness and stared in horror; the short woman found herself back on the floor as the man that had held her dumped her on the ground again. Ignoring the carpet burn on her knees, she tried to get up only to have her boy-short hair pulled mercilessly by the strange-looking man that appeared before her.

"Who are you! Demon!" she shrieked as she pulled her head away, head pounding. The much shorter man that had held her hair sniggered.

"Are that short of memory?" he asked, spreading his arms. "You don't even recognize the man you spent the night with? The one that drove you into sin?" he took slow, careful steps toward Kokoro. "Amanojaku?"

=0=

"What causes you to request my presence, Gyuuki?" Rihan asked languidly hands behind head when he arrived in the forests of Nejireme, _akateko_ waving slowly in a nonexistent breeze.

Gyuuki was silent for a second, before speaking in his harsh deep voice. "There is a yokai, who has recently been around the areas here. He wishes to call attention to himself by attacking certain humans."

Rihan cocked an eyebrow, blinking. "How do you mean when you say he attack the humans here? In this particular city?"

He shook his head. "The next one over, in the South Inn owned by the Ubume."

Rihan wrinkled his nose in distaste. "The one that overcharges?"

Gyuuki sighed. "I wouldn't know. I've have never been there. It is what Mezumaru tells me."

Rihan stood up and sighed. "You should really get out more. But no one has died yet, right? You know I can't stop a yokai from doing it what it does without having to deal with the rest of the clans."

"I wanted you to know, should he desire to approach you. The fool has already tried to enter the mountain before. He was too weak to reach the top, the _akateko_ stopped him near the base."

He smirked, golden eyes twinkling in amusement. "He must be either insane or suicidal. Either that or he's got an ego bigger than his brains. There hasn't been any deaths, right? I suppose if I can put up with Gagoze, this guy'l be fine."

Gyuuki said nothing in response to Rihan's statement. "Did you deal with the _basan_?"

"It's out of Nura territory. I can't do anything about it for now. But last I saw it, it was somewhere around western border. How come all the rogues start off here, hmm? Sometimes I feel as if I stay here more than my own house."

"You never go to the main house anyway, Rihan-sama," Gyuuki admonished tonelessly.

"That's true," Rihan said, face straight, before walking out the door of the room where Gyuuki was in. "I'm going to go meet this guy and see exactly what he's doing here. What'd you say his name was?"

"…Amanojaku."

=0=

Wakana walked down the city streets and people paid her no mind; so she shuffled on her way to the police station on the other side of the small town named after the mountain. Most simply assumed she was a nervous young girl cutting school, but it was ot so. All she could think of was her missing, clinically depressed mother on the streets of a city with a man.

She wasn't so ignorant as to not notice this was a kidnapping. She had to report, the law enforcement would no doubt be more effective than a fifteen year old girl alone.

"Hello, sir. I need to report a missing persons…"

The sharp looking layd at the front desk shot her eyes up and gazed harshly at Wakana. "Excuse me, girl?"

Ignoring the jab at her, Wakana repeated herself. "I need to report a missing persons. My mother been gone since yesterday morning, people say she was with a man…"

The woman snorted. "You sure she wasn't whoring herself out last night? It's not that unusual if she's single."

_Bitch…_Wakana took a deep breath, working hard to keep her voice steady. "My mother has post-partum depression; she hasn't had sex since her last boyfriend died. Her name is Okinamachi Kokoro, miss."

The lady waved her hand. "Ya, ya, I'm filing it, don't worry. What's you home number?"

Wakana winced, she didn't know any way to keep in contact. "I live in the house at the base of the mountain. Please call the telephone there."

The girl picked up a pen and paper and called an officer on the phone, chatting rapidly before waving her towards a buff man that had started walking down the hallway behind her desk.

"Hello, Okinamachi-chan, I need the physical description of your mother and where she was last seen," he said, giving the receptionist a dirty look after looking down on her.

As she absentmindedly gave the officer the information, her mind drifted off to the possible location of the woman. _Please be okay, Okaa-can…_

=0=

Night fell on Nejireme.

Rihan had wandered aimlessly through the town in his human form, watching people go on with their lives in a sort of detatched sense. More than once he had been stopped by a policeman (they seemed to be swarming the place!) about a woman that had gone missing the morning before.

_Shame…_ he thought, though when he had chatted further and discovered that it was a girl—the woman's daughter—was the one who had reported the missing report. It seemed the woman had simply vanished at dusk.

It made his chest hurt everytime he thought about the selfishness some people had. And whether this missing person had done it in desperation, thinking that they were doing something good…

_She's not Otome, Rihan. _He thought chidingly to himself as the sun quickly went down and he shifted easily to his yokai form.

So caught up in his thoughts was he, he didn't notice when he bumped into a woman near the bus stop. She had stumbled off the near the vehicle after turning off a street, red-eyed and stinking.

"Please—" she almost fell on him, instead, she gripped his yukata to hold herself up.

"I apologize for her actions, Nurarihyon-sama," a silky voice said as a short blonde man walked forward, bright orange eyes glowing. "But you know humans…"

Rihan steadied her, holding her up. She breathed heavy-breaths of relief as she clutched him and passed out, murmuring something about wickedness and yokai.

"You are an Amanojaku, right?" he looked down at the woman—the missing one that the police had been looking for. "Wow…you went all out on her, hmm?"

The yokai shrugged. "She didn't scare until I used my fear on her. After that…well, humans will fear yokai once more. At least this one certainly will. Can't you just smell the terror radiating off of her?"

He could, but he didn't comment. "You'll take her back?"

Amanojaku snorted. "Of course not. Humans can convince themselves of anything…no matter what. But now, Nurarihyon-sama, now that I have your attention," the blonde yokai paused, licking its lips and kneeling suddenly on the ground, hands placed flat on the ground. "I humbly request the protection and entry to the main house of the Nura clan."

Rihan was unamused and flatly declined. A squeaky sound escaped the yokai.

"Has anyone ever said that you were impudent, Amanojaku?" Rihan asked flatly, beginning to pick up the woman and walk away. A pitiful squeak emanated once again from the yokai behind him. He sighed.

_The Nura clan is one of the strongest yokai clans…and it's purpose is to protect the yokai under their power weaker than the leaders…_

"Go to Gagoze," he said, quietly, not looking behind him. "He will welcome you…" he sighed and continued walking. For a moment, he could feel the Amanojaku's eyes on his back, before the feeling vanished as the yokai left. The woman was limp in his arms as he walked up the mountain where he was fairly certain she lived, if Gyuuki's words were anything to go by.

=0=

The doors of the house creaked as she pushed it open. Wakana could only vague shapes in the darkness of the house, and she fumbled for a light switch. There on the table was a sloppily written note on the back of a receipt to the local grocery.

_Be back soon, don't kill yourself, don't open the door._

Wakana smiled a little despite herself. She walked slowly into her room, the one in the back of the house where she and her mother had been assigned. She robotically changed into her nightgown and prepared to flop into bed when a sudden chill came over her. Something…

She crept out of her room through the house to the kitchen, soundlessly grabbing the long pole—a shovel—she realized that was leaned up against the kitchen door. After whoever had taken her mother, she was taking no chances here on this haunted mountain. She ran back to her room.

_Can't sneak up on me now,_ she thoughts, brown eyes wide in the darkness.

Through the closed shoji doors came a man…yokai. Tall, black hair sticking straight out, illuminous yellow eyes…and clutching a woman tenderly the same way he had held her, back in that burning building.

_ No…this can't be…_she clutched her shovel hard and leapt straight at the man as soon as he put her mother down on the mat. She hit him mercilessly hard over the head with the flat of the tool. When he was down, she hissed angrily, uncharacteristically, "Who _are_ you?"

=0=

"Who _are_ you? What the hell are you doing here? Why do you keep following me?" was the torrent of questions that met Rihan when his head finally stopped spinning,

"Damn, onna…you hit hard," he muttered, mostly to himself. He looked up and was met by those chocolate brown eyes.

_The girl with the cherries…_

"Wakana-chan?"

She smiled sweetly, eyes steely as she held her shovel—that was what had hit him, he realized bitterly—offensively. "Shh, yokai-san now, explain what you did to Okaa-san. And what you did at the apartment. How did you know my name?"

_Ohh…_

He hadn't met her before like this, and when he opened his mouth, she smiled wider and pushed the edge of the shovel of the throat into his throat. He looked up, focusing those light eyes right on hers. They held resolve, and obsession. The silence was tense, and suddenly, before he could deign her an answer, she rose up and swung the shovel hard, harder than before. He activated his fear and watched as the flat sharp part of the shovel went through him, body dissolving in the black tendrils of his fear. He appeared on the other side of the room.

"Nurarihyon," she hissed, the frown on her face looking strange. "What other yokai could appear in this house so easily!"

"Ayakashi?" Rihan said flatly, jumping back when she ran at him again, unshed tears shining on her lashes as she swung the shovel through him again.

"Who are you! Every time you come, something bad happens to my family! Why did you kidnap my mother? What did my sister do to you?" She tried to swing it again, but Rihan caught it, pulling her arms against him.

"Why do you keep saving me? How-"

He shook her, throwing the shovel aside. "Whoah, stop. I didn't take your mother! I didn't even know she was your mother! I just—"

"Kidnapped her!"

"Yes! No, wait, no! Just please calm down, okay?" he begged, holding at arms length as she began kicking him.

"Yokai! Nurarihyon-san let go of me! Just explain yourself!" she cried, tense shoulders warming his hands as she flushed.

"That's what I'm trying to do!" he said, slightly frustrated at the girl, who was looking at him straight in the eye, completely fearless.

"Your mother was…led away, and I found her, and brought her back. As for that time in the apartment, I was tailing the…a yokai that had been wreaking havoc around."

"The _basan?_" In her eyes was a fervent glow that surprised him. She grabbed his hands forcefully and pulled him toward her face. He fought back a blush when he noticed their noses were nearly touching. All he could see were her brown eyes. "so if you were chasing him…" she pushed him away and clapped her hands together. "You're a good guy!"

"What?" he said, pushing himself off the ground. "What do you mean—"

She turned around and faced him again, a wide smile across her face. "You, Nurarihyon-san—that is who you are, right?—are a good guy!" she leaned forward, pulling him to his feet, grunting a little at his weight. "You are always looking out for me…how else would you find me twice?"

"I didn't find you, Gyukki told me about the Amanojaku, and I—"

Wakana wasn't listening as she kneeled over her mother, feeling her face for sickness. "It doesn't matter, Nurarihyon-san, I am in your debt. But," she began, looking at her mother, brushing the limp short hair off her forehead, "maybe I'm not. All these months, and you told me nothing? Do you perhaps have a twin? Because I remember in the park, a man with hair just like your, with _eyes _just like yours…smirked at me and called me Wakana-chan when I didn't know him. And all those months ago, in that burning building as that monster killed my sister, I was saved from a collapsing building…" her voice trailed off, and Rihan knew he had been found out.

She stood up and walked over to him, looking up at him from her shorter height. Rihan scrambled in his head for something to say.

"How did you know I was Nurarihyon?" he asked, smoothly, not confirming her accusations, though her face told him she was fairly certain of her inferences.

"Yokai, hmmm? I love them, I hate them, and I want to know everything about them! And then I'm going to kill a _basan. _And then," she leaned forward, breathing into his face as she pulled him down, "I'm going to question you and how a supposedly petty yokai like Nurarihyon would known a beast monster like Gyuuki."

Rihan backed up, and she didn't follow. She covered her face with her hands, tears spilling and wetting her palms.

"Arigatou, Nurarihyon-san." She looked up, tears shining in her eyes. "Arigatou." She smiled a little.

Rihan felt his chest ache at the sight. Why, he had no idea, but his heart wrenched in the same way when he had seen her sob over his sister's dead body, the same as she cried in joy of her mother's return.

"Of course," he said, at loss for words, as she started for the door. When she stopped by the door, she looked back.

"Please stay," she said quietly, eyes on the floor. "Wait in the kitchen while I tend to my mother. I will be there shortly."

She smiled, a genuine smile of pleasure. "I don't want you leave without me not knowing a single thing about you! After all, how gracious a person would I be if I could only find anger at my savior?"

Rihan found himself smiling smally at her politeness. "Let me help you with your mother. How good a savior would I be if I didn't make sure she was okay?" he joked lightly. It had been a long time since he had joked with someone, especially a girl.

_How could you even think like that? She can't be older than sixteen!_

He followed her out of the room as she flicked a light switch on in the hallway. They would go quietly into the bathroom, and Rihan would help Wakana dress her unconscious mother's wound and look away in silence when Kokoro was redressed. Then they would head just as silently to the kitchen and sit just as quietly at the table. And Wakana watched Rihan all night, as the moon rose and set in the starry night sky.

By the time the sky turned pink, Wakana's head had drooped inevitably on the table, and she was snoring lightly in a her light pink nightgown, one leg splayed out to keep her balanced on the chair. When Rihan had silently rose, she moved a little and revealed a groggy young adolescent.

"Bye, Nurarihyon-san," she mumbled, picking her head and looking at him with a small smile. "Please come back soon. In fact," she smiled to herself, more awake than before, "You can hide here if you need to hide from someone!"

"Sure," he laughed, not really intending on coming back, "but I wasn't hiding. I was gracefully avoiding."

"Of course," she mumbled, face back on the table.

Her invitation was the start of something much greater.

**Yeah, yeah, sorry for the cliché ending, but I didn't know when to stop this chapter; it just kept going and going and grew into this monster. You guys have my insomnia and INSPIRATION! for this monster of chapter! Not as long as my Short Stories chapters (nearly 6,000 words per) or my crossovers', but pretty long for this particular fic. I hope you like the official introduction to Rihan and Wakana's meeting!**

**Just some notes I noticed I haven't included yet. I researched a hellavu lot for this fic. I did some further research, and Wikipedia has the most simplified summaries of the yokai referenced. I took a lot of liberties concerning their fears and abilities. I thus introduce…the yokai index! Will be using this anytime I reference one and any…inconsistencies I make for the purpose of the story. **

**1) A **_**basan.**_**A large fire-breathing****chicken****monster. Didn't have to take much liberties with this one. The yokai that burned the store Wakana lived above and killed her sister.**

**2) An **_**akateko.**_** A red hand dangling out of a tree. In the story, Gyuuki's sort of servants. I took creative liberties. XD (Think those moving hands from xxxHolic that chased Watanuki up a tree when I describe them moving)**

**3) An **_**amanojaku. **_** A small spirit that instigates people into wickedness. Awashima is one if I remember correctly from Nuramago. What this particular one's fear is that he looks for what you desire most and uses it to achieve your ends in the most shameful ways possible, rather than Awashima's which focuses more on temptation and beauty.**

**4) **_**Nurarihyon**_** is a demon that sneaks into houses on busy days and frightens the owners. If you remember from the earlier chapters, when Kiyotsugu is mocking Rikuo for his beliefs. So this proves my idea that humans know the tales of yokai, just not their offensive abilities or fears.**

**5) An **_**ayakashi **_**is the soul of a dead fisherman that has stayed behind to haunt a harbour. Sound familiar? No? They are now perceived as basically Japanese ghosts, which explains why Youhime thought that Nurarihyon was a ghost when she first met him because he phased through her walls. Wakana, being obsessed with yokai, recognized Rihan's ability. **

**6) A **_**yokai**_ **is a 'demon' from Japanese mythology. Particularly animal spirits, inanimate spirits, and miscellaneous spirits that are either pacific or malicious towards humans. Techincally, 'demon' is a mistranslation… **

**7) I think I mentioned this back in the second chapter, but a **_**mononoke **_** a Japanese nature spirit. They are different from **_**yokai**_** and the two are frequently misconcepted. A **_**mononoke**_ **could be perceived as the 'land spirits' I think they were called in the manga. They are guardians and often not malicious against humans unless they are disrespected. I may reference again…**

**Right, and just so you know, **_**okaa-san**_** means mother, respectfully. Don't think I said that before. I'm sure you know the honorifics already…damn this authors note is long….**

**Something else I referenced: Post-partum depression. PMD is severe depression that occurs after birth and it usually happens to new mothers, or women in undesirable situations.(I.E., rape babies, teen mothers, single mothers, that sort of thing) Young mothers are especially susceptible to it, though there are exceptions. (My mom had it after her fifth kid—it was the one of the worst experiences of my life.) Symptoms are depression (moderate to severe), ahedonia (the inability to enjoy anything), exhaustion, and a feeling of uselessness that can leads to neglect and other symptoms. Short tempers and being easily frustrated are other symptoms. Check out the Wikipedia, it has the most comprehensive list of symptoms without all the medical lingo I had to read…T_T **

** Congratulations if you managed to sit through that entire long-ass author's note, but hopefully you are better informed and the story makes a little more sense than before. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**Thanks for reviews goes to uchiha-sakura, , AnimeRockzzz, HerCrimsonTears, and**

**Zeenz: **I would leave it like this too, but I keep confusing this story with others because none of them have titles on the docs.:( (So vote! Hint, hint, wink, wink, nudge, nudge)

**Kunikohime Madoka Tanuki: **Sorry for not being able to include that scene you were hoping for! Stick around though…there will probably be a fight scene in the future! How else would Wakana get her gun? ;) Plus, I like fight scenes. A lot.

**Thanks to Aicirretand MysticMaiden18 for follwing. Triple thanks to TheCaramelSecrets for following and reviewing and favoriting, and same with Honoki-chi for following, fav'ing and reviewing. You guys distract me summer reading and me feel awesome!**

**Thank you to you (whoever is reading this and don't review!) for reading this far and dealing with the page ad a half authors note. Luvyabunches!**

**~YellowWomanontheBrink**

**(P.S. Just for me: please vote on my poll, as I'll leave it up for a chapter more, and if you know any good reference websites or books on Japanese mythology, please tell me. It means that much less time researching, as much of the time gaps between updates are spent getting my facts straight.)**


	6. Conversation's Impulse

**Hello~**

**New chappy! The new title is officially up! All credit goes to Crystale no Otaku for her wonderful suggestion! **

**Right, so realizing how slow my romance is going I'd like to apologize if you are finding it a little boring. But I rather like slow moving relationships; I never really believed that people just fall in love so soon after meeting...not to mention Wakana's really young...**

** Anyhow, I hope that you are enjoying the story. The new title should be up, and I want to thank everyone that has been with this story so far; I consider it my first actually good multi-chapter! I haven't been flamed once! *extremely happy* Last chapter got 1,000 hits! One freaking thousand! I am truly shell shocked to think one thousand people read my story…. **

**Let us begin with the new chapter!**

_Four months._

Four months since she had come to Mt. Nejireme. Four months since her mother vanished. Four months since…

She kneeled over the small plot, pulling up the weeds with what strength she hadn't thought she had. Sunlight rained down on her slightly bared back as she pulled at a stubborn dandelion that had grown so thick it almost looked like a small tree. Eventually the thick hairy stem cracked loudly and she fell flat on her back, holding the large fuzzy plant.

"Oh! " she said, frowning at the stubborn plant. "you can stay there, you stupid root!"

_Four months since…_

She tossed the torn plant into the basket she had brought along with her, already filled the undesirable plants in her meadow plot.

She had discovered the meadow two months ago, while helping Mizaki maintain the small shrines higher up on the mountain where he hadn't been able to travel to in his age. She had gotten lost and separated from the old man while carrying down a stack of papers for him. The ovular bare patch of dirt was dusty and surrounded entirely by greens and dark browns and even darker blacks. It was a sorry sight indeed.

Wakana, not wanting to be around her mother a few days later, had had the idea of planting her plants, which she had diligently been taking care of from pots, in the bare dirt.

The slowly flourishing wild plot was the result of two months of work and hundreds of dead weeds. Occasionally Mizaki would follow her; watch her work for maybe and hour or two, and then leave again. The warm December blooms brightened her day every time she returned home from school after dropping off her bag; or sometimes even bringing her homework with her and dragging a log over to form a temporary chair to balance her books haphazardly on her knees.

Once, she had even brought Kokoro here, on a bright-skyed Sunday, one day when her mother had the energy to get out of bed. Bright colourful flowers now adorned the large room the two shared.

_ I wonder,_ she thought stumbling a little over an uneven rise hidden by a thick tree root, _why they call such a beautiful forest haunted._

Indeed, Wakana had never seen not hide nor hair of a yokai on the mountain. The place; if dark, was always endearing when she arrived in the afternoons afterschool.

_But then, Mizaki-san does make me come home before dusk, and everyone knows yokai don't come out until nighttime._

Eventually she passed the more familiar shrines, and soon, the dirt path that led down to the house came into sight. She jogged a little, stopping near the large pestle she'd constructed out of a metal bowl, dumping the weeds and then water and then picking up a moderate size mortar and prepped herself for the violent banging that would be consequent.

A large hand closed around her wrist and she could feel a broad chest pressed against her back. She smiled and continued trying to push down.

"Hello, Wakana-chan," a masculine voice greeted her.

"Hello, Nurarihyon-san," she said back brightly, still distracted by her task.

_Four months since I caught him…_

"That's all the hi I get?" he asked, hurt evident in his voice.

Wakana shrugged his hands off of her wrist, shaking her head and refraining from laughing, beginning to pound the dandelions and weeds to a stringy green paste. Substitute dirt, she had come to calling it.

"That's all the hi you get after vanishing for four months, Nurarihyon-san. Why are you here? Certainly not for me," she said, still in that same flat, polite tone.

Wakana dutifully ignored the ache in her arms and the truth of her words as she practically _heard _Nurarihyon thinking out his words. She tilted over the big bowl into a prearranged bucket. She would haul it up the mountain in two days.

"I have…dutys," replied, evading the question in her statement.

"What duties would a Nurarihyon have with Gyuuki?" she said, smiling up at him. He had his hair long and flowing down his back, tied loosely at the base of his neck. She vaguely wondered how he managed to get his hair to stick straight out like it usually did.

"You're lucky, Mizaki-san is out today. He went up the mountain," she said as she led him inside, his silent footsteps unnerving her slightly as hers clacked loudly on the wooden floor. "Please be quiet; my mother is…asleep."

"Really? Hmm…so who's Mizaki?" Rihan asked, the quiet quickly becoming awkward as neither of them spoke for a little.

"He's the owner of the house; he hired mother to help him keep the shrines on the mountain clean and to search for the teens that go up there every night," she answered.

Rihan cocked an eyebrow. "You seem to do most of the work."

"If you've been tailing me, you know she's sick," Wakana answered, clearly not wanting to talk about her mother.

He hummed, hands inside his sleeves, the striped green haori splayed out behind him. _This girl is so uptight, _he thought, slightly amused at her guarded but pleasant disposition. He watched her as she put tea on to boil, and then she came back to the kitchen porch where he sat. It seemed her uptight restrain was being tested.

"Tell me about yokai," she said quietly. Rihan cocked an eyebrow at her.

"What don't you know about yokai already?" he asked a little impishly, looking at the massive expanse of green that was Gyuuki's mountain.

"Well, I know their names, and what they are known for, but I know virtually nothing else," she said, looking vaguely around.

"You seemed awfully well informed last I remember," he told her back.

"How else would a _Nurarihyon_ defeat a _basan?_ If I were to go off what I know, Nurarihyon is a complacent, if annoying yokai. You certainly are neither! So tell me about yokai."

He said nothing chewing the inside of his mouth in thought. "Yokai live in separate clans, all separate under different leaderships. Some are big, some are small, some a frighteningly strong and then others weak. I'm…part of one of the stronger clans."

They sat in silence once more, Wakana absorbing this newfound knowledge interestedly.

"What clan's land am I on now?"

"The Gyuuki clan…"

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "I suppose I could have figured that out for myself. Speaking of Gyuuki, how come I have never seen any yokai around here? I mean, I've been here for nearly four months already. I was kinda looking forward to seeing the yokai…I'd love to question them too!"

Rihan smiled, just a little at the young teens antics. "Aren't you the least bit afraid seeing as it's yokai you're going after? You know, demons? I hear Gyukki is especially notorious around here!"

Wakana looked scandalized. "Of course not! I know a yokai can't hurt me if I show absolutely no fear! I hit you with a shovel the first time you crept into my room, didn't I?"

Rihan winced as he remembered the absolute ridicule he had gotten from his father when he'd arrived home with three huge shovel marks in his face. And he couldn't bring it upon himself to say a half-grown human girl had inflicted it upon him…absolutely humiliating.

"Yes…my face especially remembers it," he said, rubbing the cheek where the second and most disfiguring blow had landed.

"Good! Otherwise I'd have to hit you again to remind you!" she laughed, completely serious.

"That really wouldn't be necessary," he said, inching away from the girl.

"Oh! Nurarihyon-san—"

"Rihan," he interrupted. She blinked owlishly, big eyes staring straight at him. "That's my name. My name is Rihan."

"I didn't know that yokai had names! Tell me more names! I want to know you Rihan-san. You're so quiet…it isn't healthy," she said with absolute conviction. "You know what! I'll start. It's a little demanding of me to expect you to open up to a weird, human girl like me! I bet you talk to your girlfriend every night, or someone at least. Cooping up stuff like this isn't good, especially the way you've been going."

A teapot began whistling in the back of the house. Wakana stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her blouse before entering the house.

"You better not be tense when I come back, Rihan-san!" she called through the elegant; if dirty, sliding doors. He tried not to smile, but failed ultimately; there was something so refreshing about this strange young woman.

She stumbled back in, kicking the door out of the way and spilling some steaming liquid on the floor. Cursing a little under her breath, she placed the tray on the floor and clumsily poured some tea into a cup for herself and Rihan.

"So, first things first, you—" she pointed at him, "tell me your purpose here. Honestly."

He sighed, held by her brown eyes and answered, mumbling. "I have to run an inspection."

She frowned, dissatisfied with his answer, but she didn't push. "I have a garden that I take care of. That's what I was doing when you came. It started out as a domestic garden, but then the wildflowers grew, and then…really all I have to do is dump 'dirt' and pull weeds."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You pull those weeds all by yourself? You shouldn't be in the forest by yourself."

She smiled again, smaller and fondly. "Mizaki-san comes and collects me before dusk I've never been in the forest at night." She turned towards the hanyou with a spark in her eye. "This must be presumptive of me, but will you take me into the forest? Mizaki-san won't be home for days because his kid had a kid and they wanted him to be there!"

"No," he said flatly, shutting down any of her hopes. "I just came to inspect this clan so I can finish up on my rounds and…"

"What," she demanded, "so you can just hide in a tree again?"

"I was avoiding Kubinashi! I didn't want to have to go home on that particular day…"

_Nearly a year ago…when I met you,_ he thought, face unreadable.

"…You know the Kubinashi?" her eyes were bright. "And you're still alive! So you must be pretty powerful if you're inspecting _Gyuuki _and you know Kubinashi!"

She was practically bouncing in her seat, sipping from her cup leisurely.

"Why don't you tell me more about yourself, instead, Wakana-chan?" he asked, bluntly changing the topic, lacking most of his whimsical charm most rarely saw nowadays.

"There really isn't much to tell. I had a sister, I have a mother, I go to school I'm sixteen. I garden and read a lot. I like yokai."

Rihan frowned, earning a disapproving sound from Wakana that he ignored slightly. "Wakana-chan, why do you like yokai so much? Wasn't your sister killed by one? And your mother was attacked too…how do you manage not to hate us, or at least how not to fear us?"

Wakana shrugged. "I just want to know why. It isn't fair that I'm expected to fear or hate you guys because of one's actions. I think that defying all expectations of the perp's hopes is much more satisfying than killing them."

Rihan blinked, watching as the sun was low in the sky. Soon, the sky wouldn't be that pleasant blue that signified a spring afternoon. Soon, the sky would be red and the night spirits would thrive; if only for a short time. He stood up and stretched, holding out his hand for Wakana to grasp, and then he pulled her up. She grabbed the tray and headed inside, stumbling over the same spot that she swore moved every time she entered through the kitchen porch.

"Good night, Rihan-san," she looked back as she stood in the doorway, setting sun at his back, "Please, the next time you find it good to visit, don't wait four months between visits. It's not nice, especially between friends."

"See ya, Wakana-chan," he said, smiling at her. It felt strange to have such a familiar expression on his face after so long of not.

=0=

As Rihan effortlessly scaled Mt. Nejireme, her words kept reverberating through his head.

_I wonder why she would even consider me her friend; this is only the first time she's really talked to me, _he thought, as he was met at the door by Gyuuki's skull headed young protégé, Mezumaru.

"Hello Rihan-sama," the feminine voice rang out from behind the mask.

He greeted the young yokai, heading through the halls to probably the most closed-mouth yokai he could trust besides Kubinashi. But right now, he needed confidentiality and wisdom without the judgment of the entire clan on his head. Gyuuki was probably his safest bet.

"Oi. Gyuuki. Can I speak to privately?" he said, sitting down and folding hislegs beneath him, as Gyuuki declined his head and looked at Rihan. The room was emptier faster than either of them could see anything.

He sighed. "You know the girl that lives at the base of the mountain?"

Gyuuki nodded. "With the shrinekeeper?" Rihan confirmed and continued.

"There's something up with her. I keep running into to her! She thinks I'm her _friend_! I never even made any sort of move and—"

"You're thinking too much into it. If she hasn't made any factitious moves towards you, you should be fine. Otherwise, deal wit her the way you would deal with your other suitors." Gyuuki said, bluntly as usual.

"You're probably right, though the other clan heads getting on my case isn't exactly helping either," he said, scowling. "They want to pressure me into conceiving an heir. I'm not that old, am I? Sheesh."

There was a silence between the two yokai before Gyuuki said quietly, "She isn't coming back, you know. You don't have to wait for her."

Again, a long silence between the two, before Rihan spoke.

"I'm going to stay here for tonight. You still have my room set up, right?"

Gyuuki didn't respond but a disappointed look sent at the _hanyou's _retreating back, half-hidden by his hair.

=0=

"Okaa-san, guess what?" Wakana said as she entered the shared room with a tray laden with two meals. Kokoro was sitting in a spindly chair positioned near dusty windows that had yet to be cleaned. Wakana balanced the tray on a box, which she pushed next to her mother and sat down herself on another package.

The older woman didn't say anything as her daughter pushed a steaming bowl in front of her, picking up her utensil and eating as her mother forlornly watched her.

"What, Wakana?" she replied at the expectant look her bubbly daughter gave her.

"Well, today, I met a boy, and he is really kind to me, mother. We are becoming friends. Do you remember him? The man who saved you…a couple of months ago."

Kokoro nodded, and Wakana took her mother's hand and placed the chopsticks in her mothers hand. "Please eat, okaa-san. You didn't eat at all yesterday, or the day before."

Kokoro nodded, beginning to eat, if slowly and only when her daughter looked up from her own light dinner to watch her sharply to ensure she ate.

"Wakana, you're so happy…" she looked down at the food, "I used to like to eat your cooking, because you know I can't cook at all."  
>"Then <em>eat<em> okaa-san," Wakana suggested, picking up the utensils—Kokoro hadn't noticed she'd dropped them—and placing them tenderly into her hands again. "It's Friday, Okaa-san. Relax. I'll be here tomorrow too, and maybe you won't be asleep and you can meet Rihan-san too?"

The woman's thin, thin hand shook slightly as she fought to eat the thin soup slowly, finally opting to bring the whole bowl to her mouth and drink the broth, which made Wakana smile, relieved.

"I should love to meet this boy that's got my hime-chan smiling like this," she said, her voice thin and reedy from lack of use. "I haven't seen you smile this much since Aiko died."

"Why shouldn't I smile, okaa-san? I've got you safe, I got in the top fifty of my class, and I have friends and a beautiful garden and a house…maybe you should try to smile too. And eat more! You're already skin and bones. And I can't work for you forever!" she laughed nervously when her thin mother didn't respond.

"Wakana…am I a bad mother? Because when I went to the market this morning, the women there talked about how a mother I am. Oh, I have such a good daughter! Sometimes I wonder what good deeds I have done to deserve a blessing like you," she moaned.

Wakana kept silent, smile gone, saying nothing in response to her mother's tense question. "sometimes, okaa-san, I wonder why such bad things happen to you," she whispered to herself when she noticed her mother had fainted.

Her mother' depression had been bad before, but now it seemed to have increased exponentially since her encounter with the _amanojaku._

As Wakana watched her mother emaciated form, she made up her mind. Tonight, when the sun was down, she would find herself a yokai. She would find herself a yokai and demand an answer to her single question…

_Why?_

Tonight, she would find a demon.

=0=

After tucking her exhausted mother into bed, she gazed out at the moon—it was a half moon, and mostly covered by clouds and the occasional treetop. There were no stars.

She pulled on a bright yellow shirt, and pulled a black sweatshirt over that, shimmying into black sweatpants and her usual sneakers.

_There,_ she thought, looking over herself in the mirror. _If I get kidnapped or hurt or something, I'll get away and take off my sweatshirt so that they can see me in the dark. If they decide to call the police..._

She really didn't want to acknowledge that she didn't have any neighbors.

Wakana took a deep breath, and walked quietly into the kitchen, grabbing the heavy duty lantern flashlight. She walked out the kitchen down the porch and prepared to enter the forest, then stopped and ran back inside, scanning the kitchen.

_I shouldn't go unarmed_, she pondered, rubbing her chin. Her eyes ran over the length of the kitchen, stopping on the shovel se had hit Rihan with. She reached out for it uncertainly, and then drew her hand back. _Perhaps something more dangerous..._

Making up her mind, she flicked on the lights of the house, grabbed a long serrated bread knife, and ran out the door before she could make up her mind. She held the knife in front of her as she stalked through the forest, believing she was (hopefully!) unseen, though, she noted, the prospect was unlikely.

The night was quiet but for the crunching leaves beneath her feet; she had decided not to turn on the lantern yet so as not to ruin her vision of the night. Tentatively, she stepped forward, stumbling up the mountain, but refraining from crying out every time she tripped over a tree root.

She wasn't on a steady path, though she could feel the slope getting sharper and sharper; she was stumbling more frequently and almost crawling.

It was when she neared the top that the trees began rustling quietly, masking the sound of her footsteps. Inky blackness filled her sight, and she cried out in shock hen her back exploded in pain. Something had hit her.

She put the lantern on the ground and stood up unsteadily, holding her knife out in front of her as if she knew what to do with it.

"Who are you? I know that you're there!" she called. Her voice echoed stro9ngly in the night, thankfully not betraying her hesitation.

"They usually come in winter? What's a human girl doing on Mt Nejireme?"

She huffed a little at being referred to as a 'girl', but turned in the direction she heard the feminine—it was obviously a girl—voice.

"Another one? I'm surprised it came alone, usually they come in hoards."

This voice was husky and boyish—younger, probably around thirteen. She set her feet and planted them firmly in the ground, holding her knife in front of her.

"Hello?"

She felt a little stupid speaking into the night, her voice quieted, as disturbing the silence by herself seemed...wrong.

As per her expectations, two figures dropped in front of her gracefully; one a young boy that was graced with a fearsome scowl, the other's face was covered by a skull. She couldn't really see them that well in the dark.

_Damn...i should have thought this better through._

=0=

Rihan, meanwhile, was sitting contemplatively, thinking about what Wakana had said. She really hadn't been making any advancements, now that he thought of it. He had been around beautiful women for over a hundred years; he had gotten pretty good at telling when someone got...too close for comfort.

_I can't ever tell if she's mad or not,_ he thought blandly. _ She's always so...level-headed. And pleased._

Wakana seemed to be so satisfied with whatever she got, though, she seemed so...dare he say it, _dissatisfied_ with his lack of presence.

_It wasn't as if I vanished,_ he said to himself, _ I've been around her..._

_Stalking her with your fear is not the same thing,_ a little thing called his conscience whispered. He sighed once more and flopped back, looking at the shadowy half-moon.

He wanted to go out that night. He felt like being out there in the cool night air...

Rihan had been stalking this territory longer than he was willing to admit, following Wakana every few days, just to check up on her, but never really speaking to her.

Or rather, he hadn't let her see him. And so, on the day of the inspection of the Gyuuki Clan—one rarely inspected, so his cover story really wasn't that great—he had decided to meet up with her.

Something told him she was quietly pissed off.

Then again, he really did try to avoid befriending humans nowadays; it had seemed the population had lost all sorts of sense and reserve, and really couldn't seem to take a hint.

But Wakana really was unlike any women he was closely familiar with; she lacked the quiet and reserved grace that his mother and his wife had in abundance, he wasn't confident and bubbly like Setsura or Kejoro, she was just...strange.

He didn't notice he had been smiling. It had been a while since Rihan Nura had ever gazed dazedly at anything, nonetheless a mere thought.

Gyuuki entered the room, silent as always.

"Something is on your mind, Rihan-san?" he asked, folding his hands over his knees as he joined the younger hanyou.

"Nothing of importance," Rihan said, running a hand through his hair.

"Not the girl you met earlier today?"

He wanted to groan aloud; even _Gyuuki_ was on the 'get Rihan married as soon as possible' train?

"No...I already said she was just a friend. And besides," his voice was significantly quieter, "she's human. So..."

"So what?"

Rihan waved his hand, wanting to drop the topic. "I already said it's nothing."

"So you haven't been stalking her for the past four months?"

Rihan fought off a blush; he was so certain that he had not been seen. "I'm not stalking anyone. In fact, I think she was sort of mad at me for not talking for so long."

Gyuuki shrugged. "I suppose it was to be expected. And you were just in the area more frequently then usual I assume."

"More like avoiding the main house..."

"Why?"

"That's my own business."

Gyuuki fought back a smirk. "So you were following her."

"You wound me with your assumptions," he said flatly.

Gyuuki watched Rihan carefully, though there was no change in the sad expression—Rihan never really could work out a flat or cold one—in the hanyou's face.

"Where's Mezu and Gozu?" Rihan asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Out in the forest. They prefer being out at night..."

Rihan almost dropped his expression when he thought of the flat house at the base of the mountain.

"They don't usually leave Mt Nejireme, right?" he asked, uncaringly.

" Not really. With the exception of the solstice, as you well know. They really don't get much prey with the exception of the winter."

"Really?"

He almost let out a sigh of relief; he really didn't know why he was worrying. And even if she did run into a yokai—which was highly unlikely, what with her absolute lack of fear—he was certain she would be fine. Her character didn't really make a good victim...

And besides, she herself had said that she had never ventured into the forest at night. She would be fine.

A scream pierced the quiet mountain air, it's faint echoes just barely reaching the top.

.

.

.

**And that's that! Hope you enjoyed, though I am rather sorry about the ending, and it's much shorter than my previous chapter...I'm not really feeling it…**

** Anyway, I'll try to avoid rambling on here...don't think that there's any notes here that I need to mention...**

** I'm still looking for a good reference site on Japanese mythology, or perhaps a book would be good too? I live in a state that probably singularly has the worst library system on the east coast. T_T. **

**Please review! I'm looking for ideas, criticism, anything that would help me better my writing.**

**Sorry for not replying! But I'm kinda in a rush right now….**

**Luvyabunches! **

**~YellowWomanontheBrink**


	7. Awaken

**Hello.**

**So…I'm sorry for taking so long to update! But I sat down and wrote this in three hours because all the rest of the stories on fanfiction seemed to be abandoned. T_T Sorry if there are any misspellings or grammar issues.**

**Enjoy this chapter! ^_^**

**Let us begin!**

**=0=**

Wakana almost shrieked when the boyish one leapt into her face. She quickly lashed out with her bread knife and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it had nicked his cheek; though he had moved away too quickly for her to have seen properly.

_Thank heavens…I was worried they couldn't be cut, or had the same ability as Nurarihyon-san, _she thought, setting her stance further and gazing calmly at them from across the field. _That would have been a problem._

"What the hell, Mezumaru? I thought you said you actually found something useful. I don't sense anything offa her at all!" The one with the uncovered face…whined?

Wakana blinked nervously and backed away when the girly voice, now identified as Mezumaru, rang out from behind the mask.

"Maybe if you listened, you'd know that I said that that wasn't the one I sensed! Maybe we could use her or something."

Boyish looks scowled, jumping up and settling himself comfortably on a tree branch, the blackish waves of power that had blotted out even the little that she could see in the dark vanishing behind him.

"That one? Look at her, she's pathetic. She couldn't scare her way out of a paper bag…though perhaps we could use her for practice. It would be a fee for trespassing on Nejireme, don't you agree? "

"I don't know, Gozu…"

Wakana had slowly been inching herself through the trees to her lantern; she wasn't stupid and knew she was at a clear disadvantage as the two young sounding creatures casually debated over her fate. With a wild leap she closed the last of the distance and attempted to flick on the light—she would sacrifice her dopey night vision, but at least she would be able to see.

But it was not to be. A tingling sensation ran down her arms, like a line of insects crawling up a tree limb and she stopped, all momentum halted. She gasped loudly as her body seemed to have grown a mind of its own, standing up straight and brushing her self off. Quickly the feeling ran down the rest of her body and her legs locked up and turned icy cold, and her hands were frozen stiff by her sides. She took shuffling halting steps, her body tripping and nearly falling face forward, but held up as if it were tied by and invisible string.

"Stupid teenagers," the one called 'Gozu' muttered as he leapt down gracefully from the tree and slinked evilly towards her. Wakana merely held her chin up and looked away. "Probably a wannabe onmyougi, what do you think?"

"I don't think so; I mean, I don't sense any fear from her, but any onmyougi would carry at least one shikigami—even if it was one of those cheap ones those stupid spiritualists are always dragging around here. Gyuuki deals with them pretty quickly, I doubt he'd let one hang around here…"

"Maybe she's with that group that have been bothering the mononoke on the

Western half of the mountain?"

"Nah, I saw her come up from the house at the bottom…"

Wakana was slowly getting annoyed as they continued talking about her as if she wasn't there. Mezumaru was touching her face, and she itched to grip her knife tighter and swing it around like a madwoman; she couldn't though, because she had dropped it along the way of her uncontrolled stumbling. And the fact that her body was frozen stiff. She couldn't even open her mouth, only the barest abilities of muscle movement would occur. Panic was quickly rising, choking her throat.

"Mezumaru, you're an idiot! You said down the mountain there was a human with a lot of fear! This chick's probably some ignorant child who thinks—"

"I'm sorry Gozu!" Mezumaru was practically in tears by the sound of his voice.

"Che. Useless," Gozumaru muttered, done with his tirade. By that moment, Wakana was furious, despite the fear rising in her. What did they know?

"Just off her will you?" Gozumaru sneered. "she's obviously not worth our time."

"Why don't you do it?" Mezumaru said snidely. "Obviously—"

"Shut up!" Gozumaru snarled. "If you won't do it, release your fear then and I'll deal with the human."

_They're going to kill me,_ it dawned upon Wakana, _I'm going to die by the hands of a couple of gaki yokai._

The feeling crept back into her hands and feet, moving up her arms. She collapsed on jelly-like legs as a leg swung into view and kicked her head back so hard she slammed into a tree. The world spun around her and she choked out a sob.

_What's a knife going to do against a yokai, _she thought bitterly. _ I should have just stayed home…I feel like those stupid girls…_

Tears were actively running down her cheeks, she sniffled in pain.

_Stop crying….stop crying…_

She couldn't hear their words, couldn't see the world around her as she stood up and tried to run before she was pushed to the ground. She was kicking, kicking and punching and crying. It felt like she was kicking a rock; she wasn't used to pain like this.

_To hell with it, if I die, I'm not going to lie down and do it, _ she thought with an ounce of satisfaction as one of her foot met face and she could hear harsh cursing. She took the opportunity to scramble up to her feet and take a random stance ( as if she knew what she were doing). She blinked tears out of her eyes, though she tried to stop hyperventilating.

She almost began crying again when her vision became clear. Wreathed in black shadows was Gozumaru. And those shadows flowed at her in a flurry of claws. Courage lost, she backed and did what any girl would do-

_Scream!_

=0=

(**A/N: And so here marks the hundredth page of Nuramago fanfiction I've ever written! ^_^ Carry on!)**

=0=

A scream pierced the quiet mountain air, echoing loudly and stirring Kokoro from her restless sleep.

"Wakana?" she called, her thin raspy voice loud in the now-silent, empty, room.

_Empty?_

With all the speed she could manage, the older woman ripped the covers off of her, tumbling the small distance onto the floor and flicking on the lights. The room was empty but for the boxes in the corner and her daughter's neat bed.

Eyes wide, she ran through the house, screaming her daughter's name. The back kitchen door flapped open with a slight night breeze, and another cry pierced the midnight sky.

Barefoot and in her loose nightclothes, ignoring the pricks of the grass and twigs beneath her feet, she tore through the forest, following the unending sound as it destroyed the peace of the night.

=0=

Rihan nervously put down his empty cup; that was a girl's voice that had screamed. He attempted to keep confident face in front of the older yokai. He had grown up around yokai, and the sound of screaming, frightened humans wasn't something he was unfamiliar with.

He let out a slow breath. _Stay calm._ He picked up his head and looked Gyuuki in the eye.

"They aren't allowed to kill anyone, I hope you're aware," he said firmly. Gyuuki's eyes narrowed.

"Gozumaru has little restraint, Mezumaru is not often violent," Gyuuki said quietly. "I doubt the girl is in any sort of danger."

Rihan inwardly winced when another cry pierced the air. He remembered that kind of scream, that certainly wasn't one of abject fear. That was the kind of cry one made when they feared for their own life. He knew it, and when he looked up, he knew Gyuuki knew it as well. The older yokai made no move to stop his young subordinates, and so Rihan rose from the low chair himself. With a single glance back, he gave the smallest semblance of a glare back at the yokai and vanished , heading down the large mountain at incredible speeds.

In the silence, Gyuuki's lips quirked up in the barest smile as he folded his hands.

Meanwhile, Rihan was running, listening to the eerily quiet night now that the screaming had stopped. The calm was louder than any sounds; it seemed that even the trees had quieted upon his arrival, or worst case scenario, the girl's death.

Chiding himself for being so opinionated, he hoped it was some foolish teenager and not the wonderful girl with the long brown that had dared to call him merely her friend.

He stopped, leaning his back against a tree branch and catching his breath, forcing himself to calm down. _Don't worry…it's probably nothing…she's probably okay…._

Going faster than before, he soon reached the bottom of the mountain, not far from the flower patch that Wakana often worked on in her spare time. As per his expectations, he saw the young protégés of Gyuuki unusually close together, standing over something. Dread rose in his throat when he saw the bright yellow shirt beneath a half unzipped sweatshirt. He crept forward silently through the treetops.

"Gozumaru! I don't really think that was necessary!" Mezumaru was hanging over the girl, ox skull firmly over his face. "Do you think…?"

"Of course she's terrified," Gozumaru leered, "stupid human."

"She doesn't really seem conscious," the other disputed, poking the corpselike body nervously. "Maybe…?"

"Shut up. She's not dead. You know that—"

Rihan turned his ears away from the increasing panic in Mezumaru's voice as the two fretted over the unconscious body of the girl. There was the sound of snapping branches that the two had missed in their incessant bickering. He looked down and much to his surprise saw the stumbling form of a scarily thin woman. He couldn't really see her face through the leaves, though her panting would sooner or later catch the attention of the two young yokai, without a doubt.

Vanishing from sight using his fear, he scrambled behind her and pulled her back, covering her mouth She stifled a scream, though she didn't even try to turn around to face him.

"Stay here," he murmured and imperceptibly, she nodded.

_Apparently this woman has some wisdom on her, _ he reckoned, _the fear coming off of her is suffocating._

It was true. Whoever she was, she was terrified. Not only for herself, it seemed. Something other than her own self preservation was keeping her still under his much larger hands. Than again, he doubted she would have been able to do much in the first place, she was tiny and hardly reached his chest.

_Almost like Wakana…_

"She's alive!"

Gozumaru didn't display his relief on his face; instead, he sneered. "Stupid weak human. Throw her off the mountain. Maybe then—"

"What are you doing?" Rihan finally made his entrance. His face was serious and impassive. Mezumaru had the unfortunate luck of being in a rather…suggestive positive over the unconscious (likely concussed) girl. The ox-skulled boy scrambled up and stumbled a little in the dark.

"Nura-sama!" he squealed, voice cracking in surprise. Rihan didn't react; instead his bright eyes were focused entirely on Wakana lying prone on the ground.

_Yokai commander,_ he reminded himself. _Can't sympathize with humans now. This isn't the main house._

"might I ask what you're doing so far down the mountain?" he cocked an eyebrow. "Your commander tells me you don't often wander."

"We're still on Gyuuki land aren't we?" Gozumaru sneered, voice full of faux confidence, though his eyes were downcast. His hands were in tight fists by his side. "And as far as I'm concerned, we haven't broken any _rules."_ The words were said with particular disdain. After all, the Nura clan really only ever enforced (though it was said _frowned upon)_ the unnecessary killing of humans.

"Of course, Gozumaru," Rihan said flatly, striding over and inspecting the girl's—Wakana, it was definitely Wakana—face. A large cut was across her forehead, along with several smaller ones. Her nose was bleeding—the blood looked black in the dark, and when he inspected her legs, her ankle was twisted and swollen. As best as he could see in the dark—his night vision had never been really as good as the other true yokais', her pupils were wide, nearly filling her whole iris in an attempt to see. They were unresponsive.

_Great,_ he thought bitterly, _she has a concussion._

If he was to take her back, he'd have to be particularly careful taking her down the mountain. And definitely not in front of those two—they were disrespectful enough as it was.

When he finished his inspection, he stood up and glared slightly at the two of them. They were lucky the injuries weren't deadly, though Wakana certainly wasn't awakening anytime soon. Luckily. He didn't think he could deal with another 'admirer'. He wasn't good with shutting down women. But it wasn't as if he could accept their affections.

"Return to Gyuuki. You shouldn't be hanging around the base of the mountains this time of the year; the humans might start flocking around here and then you'll have to deal with annoyed _mononoke._"

Gozumaru merely leered, though he bowed respectfully (somewhat.) "Come on, Mezu," he said quietly, cheeks red with anger.

"Yes! Sorry, Rihan-sama!" Mezumaru hurriedly bowed and shuffled off away, following his friend into the darkness. When Rihan was certain they were gone, he dropped to his knees and picked her head up slowly, feeling her pulse tenderly and running his calloused hands over her face softly. She didn't stir.

Throwing his senses around for the woman he had a vague recollection of and finding her safely at the opposite end of the clearing. As if on cue, she ran out, dragging her feet on the ground and falling all over Wakana, mumbling incoherently.

Saying nothing, Rihan pushed her hands away when she began to try and shake the girl awake. That was probably the worst thing to do if someone had a concussion. She was beginning to grind on his nerves as she stood up and starting hitting him in an attempt to get him away from her.

"Stop, I'm trying to help her!" he said, irritated a little. His hands were spread gently over her body, running up and down the lengths of her, trying to find the worst injuries using his more latent powers that he had inherited from his mother.

Still the woman cried and hit him, and he hardened his heart to her pleads and ignored her, focusing entirely on Wakana's injuries. She had a few broken ribs, a twisted ankle, and the large gash across her forehead (probably from the trees…) and of course, there was that damned concussion.

He placed his wide palm across her forehead and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth travel down his arms into his hands. It was a wonderful feeling he rarely got to experience (with good reason—in order to heal, _someone_ had to be hurt, and he sure as hell wasn't too keen on healing enemies.).

Wakana groaned, and the corner of his mouth quirked, just a little, even though his face remained solemn. He kept his hand on her head, feeling many other impurities—he wasn't nearly as good with internal diseases and the like, if he had to deal with the wounded at all, he honestly preferred simple flesh wounds. Sickness was so much harder.

When her concussion was mostly, he lifted his hand, grimacing and shaking it to get circulation back in his hands. He felt slightly dizzy; healing definitely wasn't for him. He'd leaving healing anything to Yakushi any day. Standing up and blinking away the spot from his eyes, he gently hefted Wakana into his arms. Her head lolled and her mouth was slightly open, as was her eyes.

"Put her down!"

Ah yes, her. He'd nearly forgotten about the thin terrified woman. He winced when he looked at her, she looked like a walking skeleton, eyes sunken and wide. Her tiny, thin hands were tight (or at least held with all her strength, which wasn't really saying much) on his shoulder. She was practically on her tip toes to reach it.

"She's okay, see!" he shrugged her off and showed her the girl in her arms. "Please, relax, I'll take both of you home, okay?" He tried to be gentle, this woman was panic. More at a level beyond panic.

"No! He said he'll send the evil yokai after my daughter! Give her to me!" Desperation was in her fever-bright dark eyes—darker than Wakana's.

_Now I remember…_visions of an unconscious naked woman draped across his arms flashed quickly to him. She looked ten times worse than he had first seen her, as if someone had squeezed all the life, and what little there had been of it out of her. He quieted down and tried to take her hands off of him as slowly as possible so as not to startle her. Now she was just staring silently at him, eyes glassy with fear.

If she grew anymore panicked she would surely begin to attract yokai. It wasn't a wonder she had attracted the amanojaku. He considered knocking her out, if only so that she would not call any more attention to herself than she already had, when she did it for him.

Her eyes rolled up in the back of her head, and she collapsed onto the forest floor. Rihan sighed loudly.

"Why do human girls faint?" he muttered softly to himself with no true malice. "No one I know faints. Kejouro doesn't faint. Okaa-san never used to faint. Setsura-san never used to faint. Sure she blushes, but never fainting… _she _never used to faint. "

Adjusting the skinny woman's extra weight so that he could carry the both of them, he started to walk down Mt. Nejireme. Eventually, the thickness of the tress lessened and he was able to see the moon once more. Farther down, he was able to see the back porch of the little wooden house at the base.

_What the hell was she even thinking, when she decided to just randomly wander in a demon-infested forest, at night?_ He thought, walking straight through the walls down the familiar path to her room, where two tatami mats were set up for the both of them, unceremoniously dumping the two onto random beds. He didn't know which was which, they were both incredibly bland.

"So…" he said to the darkness, as if it could respond to him, "that was certainly interesting."

Such a strange girl she was, to wander right into a forest directly after he'd warned her not to…._right after he'd warned her not to!_

It was so ridiculous…but that couldn't have possible been the reason to? Ridiculous.

_She wouldn't…from what I've seen of her, she'd not that petty. Not that foolish._

She really wouldn't have put herself in deliberate danger just to get his attention, would she have? Maybe it was just teenage foolishness…something he wasn't really prone too, having been raised with responsibility and expectations shoved upon him, however unintentional. But…she hadn't seemed like that type of girl in all the time he'd been watching her. She was pleasant and at times brutally obvious! Not…

Not…

Damn. He really didn't know her all that well, did he?

He watched her unpained face illuminated in the moonlight, pulling his haori closer around him for warmth.

_She really wouldn't pull such suicidal trips for attention, would she? She's well-like enough…_

_ But not by me. But maybe I'm just being conceited. No way had she entered Nejireme just to find me. She said I was just a friend. _ He let out a breath. _Just a friend._

He sat on his heels and leaned closer over her face, so close he could feel her breath condensing on his cooler cheek. He closed his eyes as his thoughts scrambled for a decent reason for entering Nejireme that didn't involve him in some sense.

He came up with nothing.

=0=

When Wakana woke up in the morning, she screamed. Fuzzy grey covered her vision and she had a splitting, painful headache, as if she'd been clubbed several times over the head. Her whole body ached, though nowhere near as much as it did the night before.

The night before…

She flung the grey off of her, revealing it to be the grey blanket she often covered herself with, and the darkness frightened her. She scrambled to the window, peering out to see the early rising sun dusting the horizon pink and orange, looming over the dark tree, which ominous as ever.

The night before…

The night before, she had almost been killed by a couple of pre-adolescent demons. She almost laughed, though it came out choked up halfway and came out as a hoarse cough. Her injuries were gone, though she could swear she could remember excruciating pain.

_Perhaps I'm going crazy, _ she thought, running hands through her hair and flickering her eyes towards her sprawled mother, who wasn't moving, _just like Okaa-san._

She smiled and laughed. _Perhaps…I chickened out?_ But she could remember the faces—well, one of them was masked—of her tormentors clearly, too clearly for her overactive, slightly obsessive mind could have hallucinated.

Wakana ran the pads of her fingers over her forehead, expecting stitches, but was instead shocked by smooth skin.

_I remember…getting cut,_ she thought slowly, walking slowly to the bathroom, struggling to keep her calm. _ And my ankle is fine too…_

"This definitely isn't natural," she declared out loud. Mizaki was still gone, so he couldn't have found her.

She also ruled out the likelihood of Rihan having saved her. That was too humiliating to have had to have a man who couldn't even carry a conversation with her save her two or three times already. That would make her a burden, not a friend.

She shivered uncomfortably, as if someone were watching her. Looking at herself in the mirror, she found herself dressed in the same clothes she been dressed before—yellow shirt, black sweatshirt, tight black pants. Her hair was tangled, free of its ponytail and filled with little leaves and dirt.

Somewhere in the house, a clock rang loudly, five times. Scrunching her face up at the abrasive sound that had broken the silence, she shuddered and ran into the main room, checking the only truly accurate clock in the house. Five o'clock in the morning.

Sleep was beyond her at this point. She practically crawled into the bathroom, stripping quickly and flicking the hot water on for a shower. Her eyes were closed as the calming water ran over her bare body.

_Things will come to explain themselves, in time, _she told herself. _ In time._

**And so marks the end of this latest chapter of 'Through Life and Loss'! Hope you enjoyed it, though I'm not really liking this chappy much. **

** From here on, Wakana and Rihan should—and I say should—be interacting more.**

**High school has seriously taken me and kicked the shit out of me. While relishing it. And cackling madly. Not to mention, I'm in marching band (crunch time hasn't come yet, though I fear it) and I joined drama as well. So I'm going to be busy! But never fear, my lovely readers, I type for at least thirty minutes every day. I'd go insane if I didn't write something, be it fanfiction or original. I've got all honors classes, and my English teacher is a jackass….T_T This is a release for me, believe it or not. So I thank you all for reading. :D**

**I remember one particular reviewer asked me why Wakana's character shifts around so much.**

** Well, though the entire story (excluding thoughts!) is told from third-person, the story shifts points of view right? And this is kinda angsty at this point, so of course, when it's from Wakana's point of view, she's not particularly happy, but she has a façade of pleasantry and happiness. Eventually, as her life brightens up, she will become more like her canon. This story will definitely not end in tragedy; wait, I take that back, Rihan's gotta die at the end of it. :p**

** Anyway, she's not really a deeply explained character, and it's a particular challenge for me to believe how she could become so…accepting of being literally the only human in a clan full of yokai, especially when she's the second wife. Also especially since she was raised in an all-human environment. So I speculate. This whole story is a speculation. XD**

** Not to mention she's, what, sixteen? And she's not that old, so she must've married Rihan pretty young—meaning he had to give up a lot of things. So I'm trying to develop an emotionally strong character. I think I'm failing. **

**Thanks to Kunikohime Madoki Tanuki, uchiha-sakura193, zeenz, and Crystale no Otaku for being returning reviewers!**

**Thanks to GlimmerCreator, xXxWolvesInTheNightxXx, and Pen Sil (Me likey your penname XD) XxSaphirezxX, thanks for reviewing multiple times! Love you for that! Hopefully, her character makes a bit more sense to you now. ;)**

** Another thank you goes to xXxWolvesInTheNightxXx and XxSaphirezxX for alerting!**

** XxSaphirezxX** **gets mentioned again because she fav'd too. **^_^ **XSkyStarlX, GlimmerCreator(3), and ElenaMisaScarlet all get thanks for favoriting as well! I'd give you wonderful people more, but I'm broke! I've gotta start replying through Pm's…my A/N's are too long…**

** And thank you to you for reading this! I'd appreciate a review, alert, or fav! Have a nice evening!**

**~YellowWomanontheBrink, 9/23/12**


	8. Try

**Hello!**

**This chapter is dedicated to XxSkyeStarlxX for being the only reviewer to suggest stuff to me. Thank you!**

She tried to ignore the sore feelings in her arms, and the tingly feeling that persisted in her ankles and her head. She felt as if the injuries she had attained should still be there, but they weren't.

Something tapped Wakana on the shoulder, and she looked up and smiled, trying to wipe the uneasiness entirely from her expression. The paper she was working on, the one that was supposed to filled with geometrical calculations, were covered in scribbles and doodles—failed attempts of her trying to preserve the picture of the yokai in her head, should she ever return to the mountain at night. That it wasn't all a dream...or nightmare.

It took her a little while to realize that she was being spoken to. "Oh, _gozumaisu, _may you please repeat yourself? I'm afraid I wasn't listening."

The girl—Ami, if she remembered correctly—shook her head exasperatedly. "I never thought that the new girl was this airheaded," she sneered, though Wakana couldn't sense any real malice in her voice, and so brushed the comment off as if nothing was said.

"If you've approached me, the least you could do is say what you have to say," Wakana said sweetly, not looking up from her notebook and frowning and the sketch looked...awkward. She didn't notice Ami blushing.

"Did you really climb the mountain? I heard that it's haunted..." she said almost reverentially, though she quickly tried to smooth her image down by adding, "I mean, you're so ditzy and dopey, I can't imagine you fighting off a bunch of monsters..."

Wakana closed the notebook and looked up, her smile becoming slightly genuine at the nervous look at the bleach-blonde girl. She had been asked this all morning—though how in the world anyone at the public school learned of her little escapade the previous week was beyond her.

"They weren't monsters, they were yokai...and it wasn't that bad...though I'm starting to doubt myself of what happened." she said lightly, eyeing the clock on the board so that she could stop the awkward conversation. She could see the teacher had stopped lecturing, had packed and merely let the students talk until the day ended. It seemed that there would be no reprieve from this conversation.

"So it isn't true?" Ami asked eagerly, the true reason for her approaching becoming true as she leaned her elbow on the notebook in hope. "Some people were saying you were spreading the rumors yourself," she flounced on top of the desk, hitched up skirt flashing matching underwear. Wakana looked the other way. "Were you?"

"Of course not, Ami-chan," she said quietly, shoving her books into her bag, "I would never say such things..."

The bell rang, and she hurried out of the room whereas the rest of the class lingered for after school-activities and the like. Being only in attendance for a little more than a week, Wakana had yet to join up with any of the clubs, and so she was one of the first out into the school courtyard. Rearranging the shoulder strap of her bag so that it did not cut directly between her breasts, she started on the semi-long walk to the bus station that would take her to Nejireme and then the even longer walk home.

She grimaced; the walk wasn't really what perturbed her; it was the shadow she could swear she'd been seeing out of the corner of her eyes for days and days on end. Ever since her little escapade into the forest, she could just feel this...presence that she really had never noticed before. Perhaps it was just paranoia.

Apparently, being attacked by yokai could do that to you.

Clinging to the red bar on the ceiling of the crowded bus, where she was jostled by the afternoon rush, she contemplated actually going home. Ever since the attack, her mother looked at her differently. She didn't know what, but sometimes...she didn't really think she could handle it anymore.

_Maybe it's the upcoming June, _ she thought, fingering her bag where she knew her book on yokai lay, stuffed full of papers and notes. _Winter is coming after all..._

The chill had been permeating the air clearer and clearer as the days had gone on; soon, she would be able to see her breath in the middle of the afternoon rather than just early morning or night. The days would shorten, people would prepare for the winter...

With the lengthening of the nighttime came the probability of demons showing themselves once more. School break would come, and she'd be able to rest at home and perhaps catch Mizaki in a good mood again and listen to his rare tales of his time on the mountain.

_Maybe Rihan could come visit me again!_ She thought, expression brightening at the thought of meeting with the Nurarihyon again. Their conversation had been stiff and awkward the first time they had spoken, belayed by her anger. And then she'd gotten herself attacked, and saved...

Perhaps Rihan knew whatever yokai had fought off two probably powerful yokai, if their names were any indicator; she ahd only been able to trace them back _Mezugozu.._. but it was highly improbable they were the guardians of the underworld. Then again, Rihan seemed to know some pretty powerful people. Affiliation with Gyuuki, knowing the Kubinashi, hunting a _basan_...something was up; there should be no reason a supposedly weak _house spirit _knew any of these yokai. She would have to ask him about it the next time he ever showed up. IF he ever showed up. And it was a big if. It had been three weeks and she had yet to catch hide nor hair of the yokai that came in and out of her life as he pleased, always leaving behind so many questions!

Though she loathed admitting it, it was beginning to annoy her. She would never get anywhere with her goal if her one door into this...society kept continually changing right before she could push it open and enter.

Now at her stop, she jerked the string and jumped off, waving goodbye to the driver with a bright smile as she trudged ungracefully through the town, waving to anyone who greeted her. Once she hit the mountain, it was harder to be cheery, not when she was faced with her corpse-like mother's accusing eyes.

Feeling tired from the day, from questions of her classmates (If she ever found out who had told, she swore she'd kill them) she stopped halfway and breathed heavily, resting her bag and her hands on her knees. She felt a hand tap her shoulder, and suddenly shrieked, turning around, loosing her balance and falling flat on the ground, stumbling up and prepping herself to run, when-

She looked up and found herself staring into bright golden eyes, amused but slightly, always laced with certain sadness.

"Nurarihyon-san..." she said, slightly disturbed by his sudden appearance. He had never done' that before! Then again, she didn't really know him all that well. Doing her best to keep her shock from turning to anger, she continued stiffly. "It's nice to see you again."

Rihan was standing languidly, looking down at her with a solid confidence she found herself envying, just a little. He was frowning as he looked down at her, and without saying anything, he grabbed her schoolbag and her arm and began walking up the hill.

"…Hi, Wakana-chan," he replied quietly as they began to walk in uncomfortable silence. Wakana had to resist the urge to run her hands through her hair, just to give her something other to do than walk stiffly by the taller man.

_Why won't he say anything…maybe I could say something…._ She was immediately fishing for topics to talk about and came up empty, so she blurted out the first thing that hade come to mind.

"So how have you been?" she winced at how…aggressive her voice sounded in the silence. She smiled up at him, and he…half-smiled back. She realized he had been doing the same thing she had been, and so the awkwardness seemed to vanish from the atmosphere.

"I've been good. Just busy," he said, deadpan.

"What does a Nurarihyon do in his free time?" she asked, poking him in his chest curiously.

"What does a teenage girl do in _her_ free time?" he replied back with a question.

"Homework. Planting. Research. I got interrogated by my classmates today," she said, rubbing her arms.

"Why would you get interrogated by your classmates?" he said, almost hesitantly.

She shrugged. "I got stranded on Mt. Nejireme a month a month ago," she said brightly, watching him closely for his reaction. "But all my injuries vanished, and I woke up in my bed, so I'm starting to think maybe it didn't happen."

"It did," he said, absentmindedly moving away from Wakana. She pretended not to notice, though her smile dropped from her face.

"Is it a little ridiculous to find myself doubting that Gyuuki brought me down and healed me?" her voice came out scathingly. " I think perhaps it was someone else…I only know about one other yokai on that mountain who just up and vanished without a trace. Rihan, do you have anything to tell me?"

=0=

"Rihan, do you have anything to tell me?" her voice was so…unlike her. If Rihan hadn't seen more frightening things than a sixteen year old girl, he would have shuddered.

_Why is she asking me this? She obviously knows something…maybe she's trying to get me to confess to some fantasy or something like those other girls. That's probably it, _he thought, saying nothing as a cold silence descended. _Why can't they ever just talk straight?_

"If we're friends, than I suppose I would have a lot of things to tell you," he said his voice quiet as they neared the base of mountain where the house was.

He refused to look at her face. If she was anything like those girls…those women that had jumped at the opportunity once they found out he was single.

Like he'd said anything about being married (or otherwise), but rational thought about Wakana seemed to have fled him.

"Rihan-san, what are you talking about! I've only spoken to you twice!" she said, scandalized. "I like to think us friend—"

"Not more than that?"

The silence was so tense. Then, much to his surprise, Wakana laughed, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant laugh.

"Rihan-san, are you implying…" she started out slowly. "Are you implying that I like you?"

He said nothing, stopping and refusing to look back at her.

"Well," she said, "I suppose that you are right." She sighed. Rihan turned back to look at her to find that her face was impassive. "It isn't a crime to like someone, right? You've saved me so many times now, once, I'm going to assume from my foolishness, right?"

_"_Please, don't, Wakana-chan. Just don't. What you did on the mountain, whether it was just to get my attention, or for whatever reasons," he said slowly.

Once again shocking him, she dropped his arm—the one he had taken and just laughed. All the tenseness just melted from her face, though her eyes did glisten slightly.

"Wow. Relax, Rihan-san, I want to be your friend. That's a ridiculous notion! I just met you! But you've been kind, and I wanted torepay you…you saved me from my stupidity, didn't you?" her giggling had started to die down. "So was it you on the mountain or not?"

Rihan felt sheepish at her open, honest eyes; she was genuinely amused at him. "Well, yeah. I thought you were trying to get my attention or something."

She pursed her lips slightly. "That's being a little full of yourself, isn't it? Did I ever show any sign I would do something that crazy for _you?" _She grabbed her bag from his hand and started trudging uphill.

He blinked in surprise. _Maybe I have been a little…assumptive._ He jogged a little after her. "So what did you want me to tell you?"

She smiled slightly up at him. "I wanted an apology. You've just vanished again. I've also wanted to ask you if what happened on the mountain…actually happened. Because you know, all the evidence, it was like it was never there. It gets frustrating really. I don't really understand what happened that night, I don't understand. I just wanted to know…but you never came back, even after you promised you would."

Rihan bit his lip as she climbed the stairs to the house, sliding the door open after leaving her shoes outside. Somehow, her blunt words made him feel slightly sheepish. He followed her, stopping on the porch of her house as she bustled inside, tripping slightly at the door and catching herself before Rihan could react.

"I might forgive you if you stay for a little while," she said, stopping in the doorway, before flashing him a brilliant smile.

He felt slightly ashamed of himself, a feeling he hadn't experienced in decades. While he waited for her to return, he couldn't help but wonder what would spur her to run, practically unprotected, into a haunted forest? At night?

Did he really underestimate such an obsession and interpret it as something she might have felt for him?

_Maybe I was a little full of myself,_ he thought.

=0=

Wakana dumped her bag unceremoniously on the kitchen table, turning intot he hallway that would lead to the rooms of the house. She would have to tell Mizaki that she had arrived so that she could get her homework done and then be assigned to the various chores her mother had been hired to do.

_Maybe I could get today off, if I could convince him,_ she thought, pushing the door open to her and mother's room. Like usual, her mother was in, though now she was asleep in her bed.

Giving a silent prayer that she didn't have to deal with her mother, she shut the door and headed farther down the hall into Mizaki's room, where he sat in a gray yukata, smoking pensively.

"Good afternoon, Mizaki-san," she began politely, bowing slightly at the waist. "May I please ask the day off today? I'll take care of the stall tomorrow."

He merely harrumphed and waved her off. "I will need you tomorrow. Soon the tourists will be coming…" he fell quiet and continued smoking, looking at the paper in his hands.

"Thank you Mizaki-san," she said quickly. Wakana hurried to her room, tearing off her dirty uniform excited despite her annoyance at Rihan's appearance.

She _would_ make him answer her. And maybe if she honest with him, he'd be honest with her too. And then, this connected man, would let her into this world she had only ever found herself fantasizing about.

And then maybe, he would help her find such horrendous monsters that had always managed to hurt her so much.

And then she would know…._why?_

Rihan was her key to that.

If only he would stop running away.

=0=

When she came back clean clothes, she sat down on the porch next to the cross legged Rihan, whose face was as pensive as Mizaki's had been. She nudged him to get his attention, and he focused his yellow eyes on her and cracked that odd little…half-smile thing he seemed so fond of doing.

It slightly irritated her.

"Rihan-san, what ever drove you to think I was interested in you like that?" she asked.

He visibly winced. _So he thought I was going to drop that, hmm?_ She thought.

Rihan shrugged. "I've had some girls do crazy things for my attention…"

"And you thought I was going to try to put the moves on you?" she said in deadpan. "But—"

"I really wouldn't like that, because I like you Wakana," he said quickly, looking away. His long wild black tickled her nose.

"I said I liked you too. But if someone said they liked you, why would you…blow up at them like you did?" she asked. "And then you avoided me…"

"Well, I've kinda been avoiding _everyone_," he said. His whole countenance just screamed tired. The way he sat, almost reminded her of—

She sat up. "It's okay. Just…just don't get all worked up over little things like that, okay! Don't jump to conclusions next time okay?" she paused, unsure of what to say. Rihan wasn't looking at her.

"Look," she said, "I'm sorry about going—"

"I'm sorry," he said abruptly, interrupting her. "I shouldn't have just left you like this, but sometimes…I just…." He fumbled for words, until Wakana stopped him with a touch of her hand.

"It's okay," she said. "Just drop it, alright? Neither of us are romantically interested in each other. I was stupid going onto that mountain. It doesn't matter now, because you came back, right?"

"Right…" he said slowly.

"Right," she said firmly. "And remember about what I said. If you're looking for a place to hide, you could always come here." She smiled at his uncomfortable expression. "Besides, with how old you are, wouldn't that be molestation?"

Rihan frowned. "I never told how old I am."

Wakana grinned slyly. "You act like it. I don't know what kind of man as handsome as you would refuse to flirt unless you were old. Besides, yokai don't die right? Who knows? Maybe you're five hundred or something."

Rihan's face flushed. "I'm not _that_ old…"

She leaned forward. "So in general terms, would you be an adult, child, of teenager?"

A slight hesitation, then he grudgingly belayed, "Adult."

She smirked. "Old enough to married? With kids? And you're hanging out with a young girl like me!"

He was silent, and Wakana couldn't shake the feeling she'd said something very, very wrong.

"Rihan-san?" she asked quietly. He looked at her sadly.

"Yeah…married. Don't think it would matter if I had kids or not…"

Wakana felt extremely guilty for bringing up a seemingly sensitive subject. "I'd love to be married," she said. "Rihan-san…are you married?"

He stood up. "Yeah, I was. Sometimes I like to think I still am. I think I'll see you later, Wakana-chan."

Wakana blinked and jumped up, falling immediately back down and bumping her elbow. "Rihan-san!"

Just before he left, he looked back at her. Wakana looked back at him. She knew nothing she could say would make the situation better, and so she chewed her lips awkwardly.

"Bye Rihan-san," she said quietly, giving him as sincere a smile as possible, though her eyes were still sad. "Promise me you'll actually go home this time?"

He blinked in surprise, having expected some sort of condolence. He smirked; in resemblance of the smirk he had flashed her that time in the cherry tree. "Sure Wakana-chan."

When he vanished before her eyes, she let out a shaky breath. And then she stood up from her porch and slid open the doors, padding quietly into the house, ignoring the achy feeling in her chest.

=0=

**Hope you all like this chapter filled with plenty of Rihan/Wakana interaction! Not really romance (yet) but at least they are talking…this story isn't going to a path filled with pleasantness. Nope! Rihan is probably going to be this emotionally guarded and paranoid for a little while. I don't really believe he'd be the one to take the initial steps in a relationship if he hasn't gotten over Yamabuki. **

** I'm not really feeling this chapter much….**

**Anyway, As stated above, this chappy here is dedicated to XxSkyeStarlxX for being the only reviewer to drop a suggestion regarding my computer! And the best thing is, one of the tips actually work. XD**

** So besides that, I live on East Coast U.S, so there's supposed to be this hugeass hurricane tomorrow. (not). I doubt it'll be too extreme, but I typed up this real quick so I wouldn't leave you guys hanging for however long I might not have internet. They even canceled school tomorrow and the day after, so…you never know.**

**Have a great night peoples! Please actually review this chapter!**

**~YellowWomanontheBrink, Oct.28.2012 **


	9. Minus Each Other

**Two whole months. I'm fucking terrible; I won't even clog up up here with author's notes. **

**Here's a new chapter. Sorry it's short.**

**WARNING: UNEDITED! BEWARE OF TYPOS GALORE AND MISTAKES!**

At the loud knock at the gates, Kubinashi frowned. The Nura household rarely got visitors, unless it was some random entrepreneurs looking to sell. Much to his surprise, when he cracked open the gates, there was probably the person he least expected to have seen entering the house. Normally at least.

Rihan stood there sheepishly, half-grinning awkwardly. "Hey, Kubinashi…"

The neckless yokai's eyes were comically wide. "Ri-Rihan-sama!"

The courtyard behind him was silent. And then, the smaller yokai of the main house rejoiced, all rushing to crowd around as the gates opened up and Rihan stepped in, Kubinashi shutting the gates quickly behind him to block anything the humans might see. All around his knees and ankles were the more mundane inhabitants of the house.

"Waka! You're back!"

Tsurara hugged his waist (though he wasn't really that tall, the little yuuki-onna managed to be even shorter) and had practically tears of happiness running down her face.

Sometimes, he hated leaving. He felt as if he was betraying all this spectacular trust the Nura Gumi placed in him. He was supposed to be the strongest.

And even if he did return often, ever three or so weeks, the only ones who were ever aware of his presence in the house were his father and rarely Kubinashi, if he managed to find him.

His neglect of his clan had never been quite so glaringly obvious. No true clan should be _ surprised _ to see their leader.

"Hey, guys," he said, and tried his hardest not to sigh at the sound of his voice, which sounded, unfortunately, exactly as he felt. Exhausted. Sad.

The short yuuki-onna currently clinging around his waist suddenly blushed—a strange pale pink color that never spread past below her eyelids—and flung herself off, as if burned, though Rihan knew the action held nothing quite so malicious.

"Sorry! Agh, Rihan-sama must be exhausted…" the yokai girl who looked no more than seven or eight turned around and nearly fell on her face ( gracefully, of course) before she was caught by Kurotabo, who held her up by one arm. The monk was smiling, where his normal calm, apathetic look would be. Rihan's heart sunk even lower at his realization that he had neglected his clan.

He hadn't even accomplished anything in his…

God, he had lost track of the last time he had stayed home, and actually let the house know he arrived.

Rihan tried to smile again, just to return the beaming one his subordinate, but once more, it came out as a half-smile. He wondered when he had forgotten how to smile properly. It depressed him, and his smile slipped away as quick as it had formed.

Making small conversation with the other yokai, he stirred the crowd up and slipped away heading towards his room. Just before he slid open the courtyard doors, starting to slip off his sandals, a hand grasped his shoulder. Unsurprisingly, Kurotabo stood behind him, hand gone from his shoulder as quickly as it had lightly grasped.

As if sensing Rihan's unwillingness to talk, Kurotabo kept it short. "I hope that you stay the night, Rihan-sama. It is your home, and it will always be there to return to." _And we are your family,_ remained unsaid.

"Sure, Kurotabo-kun. I'm not about to leave again anytime soon."

Though slightly suspicious, the warrior nodded and walked away, merging in with the crowd of yokai that were migrating to the back gardens, where the sun was setting in the direction of the house. Soon, the moon would rise over the fruit trees.

He left his sandals by the sliding doors, walking silently, as he always did, barefoot through the halls. The windows were wide open, showering him with night light and cool breeze. He stopped at his room, not really anticipating entering the only place in the house he had been to every time he came to the house that he really hadn't felt quite in place in since he lost her. He sneered at the door, though it wasn't really what he was looking at.

_I sound like a sap…a selfish one at that,_ he thought,_ I'm not alone. I never have been. _He ran his hands through his hair, yellow eyes reflecting eerily in the dark. _Why can't I get myself to feel that? Why can't I understand that?_

His hands grew more and more furious in their repetitive motions. _Why? I feel so…mad! So angry. But…not at her. Despite what everyone says, she's still alive, somewhere. She still loves me. It could be worse. _His father flashed through his mind, Setsura passed through his mind, and for a brief second, Wakana. He actually cracked a small smile.

It could be _so_ much worse.

It had also been far too long since he had been a proper drink.

_Promise me you'll go home?_

"I came home. I'll try to stay this time," he said out loud, hands dropping to his side. He pulled open the door to his room, stripped, and went for a bath. Just because he wanted to be with his clan didn't mean he had to look and smell like he hadn't been home in months (which he hadn't).

=0=

When he vanished from her sight and she no longer had that odd feeling he was there, she ran into the house, and couldn't stop the luminous smile from breaking out on her face. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from her heart.

_Thank god…I thought...he might have still been mad at me,_ she thought, slumping against the wall she was leaning against in the (semi-)privacy of her own room. When she looked up she was surprised to see Kokoro up, though not really about, looking out the window, the window that overlooked the porch. A frown twitched at the sides of her mouth.

"Okaa-san," Wakana began, but before she could finish her sentence, her mother interrupted.

"Musume, that man…what is he?"`

Something inside her blanched, though she tried to smile. "Okaa-san, it was just a…man." She could have screamed at how bad and utterly unconvincing that sounded. But calling Rihan a boy left a sour taste in her mouth.

"That's not a man. That's a monster! Can't you just taste the fear he exudes?" she shivered and rubbed her arms, coughing a little at the passion she had exerted. "There are hundreds more on the mountain." Suddenly, she turned and looked fearfully at Wakana.

"I hate it here." Kokoro said, sounding a bit like a young girl. "The air is too wrong, especially at night. I can't sleep anymore."

Wakana walked up to her shorter mother and slowly placed her hands on Kokoro's shoulders, shushing her sobs gently. "Okaa-san, I'm sure it is nothing."

Wakana knew it wasn't 'nothing'. It was yokai, somehow. Maybe the amanojaku had somehow left an aftereffect?

"Look at me," Kokoro whispered. "I'm worrying my only happy family left, I'm such a bad mother."

"Okaa-san, you're perfect," Wakana said, somehow managing to joke, trying her best to brighten her mother up. "Besides, aren't a little more curious about _someone_ I brought home?"

Wakana had always found talking about herself cheered her mother up more than anything. Kokoro's eyes sharpened in a rare display of motherly-ness, and she leaned down into a chair following her daughter's guidance.

"What man's been charming little Wakana-chan!?" she said threateningly, though her wispy voice completely killed the effect. Wakana could tell Kokoro was trying her hardest to stay upbeat for her sake, and went along with it.

"Don't you mean what man I've been charming?" Wakana said, smile breathtakingly genuine. _It looks like the depression's gone for now, just the weakness…_

Kokoro's skeletally wide eyes popped even farther from her sockets. "What are _you_ talking about? I didn't know you could charm men, never mind demons!"

_Yokai,_ a little voice urged her to correct, though she decided to hastily laugh instead. "I'm a maneater, Okaa-san!"

Suddenly, Kokoro face furrowed deeply into a scowl. "Where's this man? I've got kick his ass for messing with my daughter!"

An image of Kokoro in karate training gear, veiny and thin as always, with a fierce anime scowl trying to fight Rihan popped into her head and she laughed once more, genuine and a little too loud to be polite. Kokoro's scowl vanished, and a half-smile crawled up on her face.

_Like Rihan's…_

"Musume."

Wakana still giggled, the sound dying away at the look on her mother's face. So…strong. She hadn't looked so strong since before Aiko was born, despite her bony face and brittle, thinning hair.

"Promise you'll always smile. Even if you it makes you think you look like a dope, never stop smiling. Please."

Disturbed by this sudden impartment by her mother, Wakana nodded solemnly. Seemingly satisfied, Kokoro leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, breathing shallowly and evenly. She had fallen asleep quite awkwardly in the chair.

Pulling a blanket over her mother, she sat down on the floor, hauling out her bag and pulling out textbooks and notebooks; she had homework to do, even Rihan and his beautiful yellow eyes wouldn't leave her hindsight.

Never having really had a proper friend, she thought nothing of it.

=0=

"Nidaime-sama!"

The phrase was practically a roar as Rihan was mobbed by his clan. Kejouro, her arms slung around Kubinashi's shoulder's smiled and declared the event of the nidaime actually showing up called for sake and other festive food. Never mind that she would be the one cooking it herself. Rihan wondered exactly how much it must suck to be the only able-bodied woman in the house.

"Rihan-sama, what do you want?" Kejouro bumped him with her hip, winking ad smiling brightly. "It's coming up fast!"

"Whatever you're making Kejouro-chan!" he answered brightly, feeling the layers of the veil covering that tiny area of his brain that allowed happiness come off. "To tell you the truth, I'm starving and I'll eat anything you're willing to make."

"Nikujaku it is!" she declared, dragging Kubinashi's body along. His head floated languidly after her. "Kejouro-chan, just make sure you don't' spike the broth this time…"

The Nura house felt so alive, and it seemed the whole main house had gradually gravitated towards the gardens as the night wore on and the waxing moon slowly illuminated the green grounds. Lanterns were lit, food was distributed as avidly as sake, and smoke drifted lazily through the air as yokai smoked and chatted.

He noticed everyone, discreetly; Aotabou and Kurotabo arguing about their strength and prowess, Kejouro on Kubinashi's lap, dainty hands trying to go for his dual blond hair, Karasu-tengu and his father underneath a large fruit tree, shrouded in thin gray smoke, Tsurara and Kappa by the pond.

Though Rihan felt happy surrounded by his clan, by the people he had the strongest bonds too, he felt so odd being the only one without another person.

_Damn, when did I get so shy? _He thought condescendingly to himself, _I make everything too complicated…_

He contemplated leaving the house once more, but quickly dismissed the notion.

_This is what I've needed for a while now…_

=0=

School was a dull as ever, and Wakana struggled through her classes like a boss, pretending to pay attention in her electives, and being polite. Nothing that school threw at her really perturbed her anymore.

What really got to her was the fact that it was Friday, and as the school day drew closer so did her meeting with Rihan. She prayed he would actually come, and not shirk her off again.

She stood in the courtyard, waiting for her as she called it, 'walking friend'—a new boy that had thankfully taken her place as new kid in her class, and lived with his grandparents on the hill she walked up to get home. Sure, he never talked to her in class, having easily integrated himself with the other kids, but it was nice not to have to walk home by herself.

And he was a perfect gentleman and carried her books for her.

"Ah! Fujimoto-kun!" she waved brightly and sure enough the first thing he did for the girl was taking her thick tomes from her arms and began walking. She struggled a little to catch up, and they walked in perfect silence. His head was down, as if ashamed to be seen with her; and she pretended she didn't notice.

Thankfully, the forty-minute walk was soon over, and her books were dumped unceremoniously in her arms with a quick _ja né, _and Wakana was left staring at an empty porch and a pair of shoes.

She looked up at the expanse of hill and made her way up, dust coating her knee high socks and heavy black shoes. She would have to wash her uniform later.

When she entered the old house (looking so much more appealing in the months that Wakana had cleaned up) she greeted Mizaki and hurried into her room, where, against her expectations, her mother was actually awake and drinking tea. A small pharmacy bag was next to her.

"You're back early, Musume," Kokoro said, looking up from the thin brown water. "You usually stay for tutoring…"

"Oh, well, not today!" Wakana replied, dropping her bed next to her futon and kneeling before the tray her mother drank from.

"Hn." Kokoro was unusually drab, her eyes looking out the window. "Something evil approaches," she said flatly and only then did Wakana notice. "Do you know anything about it?

She shrugged, "I know I'm expecting someone but—"

"Aiko used to be able to tell the difference so easily. She'd start crying and you were the only one able to calm her down," she took a sip, "I wonder what happened to me that I lost that sense, so much as to be fooled by a cheap disguise…and now my daughter chases after them like a lovesick little girl…like she can't tell…"

Wakana had no idea what she was speaking of, so she bowed her head quietly and the two women, mother and daughter sat in companionable silence.

_What is she talking about? The amanojaku…Rihan…Nejireme? I don't know. What can I say? __**What can I say?**_

She was saved from having to answer by her mother's abrupt leaving of the room, clad in a true hobo fashion. Wakana hoped whatever had caused this sudden attitude swing was just the medication she had started taking. She crawled over the mostly empty tray and pulled open the bag, examining the labels on the bottle.

=0=

Thursday night, Rihan was with Kubinashi at the most popular eatery for yokai in all of West Japan, Bakenekoya—home of the cutest, cattiest yokai and the cheapest, best alcoholic mixes available in Nura territory.

Rihan was helping himself; he had treated his closest to free drinks. He hardly bothered keeping track of them; he ad faith that Kurotabo could keep Aotabou in line easily enough and he _knew _for a fact that the women were probably gossiping somewhere.

Kubinashi sipped his drink quietly, and (not for the first time) Rihan lazily wondered where it went. Before he could say anything though, the neck-less yokai spoke up.

"Will you be calling the Nura Group tomorrow?" Kubinashi asked, genuinely interested. "It's been so long since they had a meeting with the actual leader of the clan. The One-Eyed Demons have been impatient according to Karasu-Tengu…they want one on Saturday. Word has traveled fast of your sudden…reappearance"

Rihan couldn't help but smirk at his skills to cause uproar by just being there. Rather, not being there. He scoffed.

"Hitotsume's just a drag, that's all. I'm sure they can all survive until Sunday," he drawled. Kubinashi cocked an eyebrow.

"Sunday?"

Rihan shrugged. "Don't feel like dealing with them at the moment, I've only just gotten back; besides, I've got a stuff to do on Friday."

"And you're going to be busy until Saturday?"

"Yes."

He eyed the Nidaime warily, before shrugging. "Very well. Just be safe, alright?" Rihan stared wide-eyed at Kubinashi, who merely sipped as though nothing had happened (Which nothing really had.)

"Really? You're not going to pry? Or ask any further?" he said lightly, as though it didn't really mean much to him.

Kubinashi gave a wry smile as he downed the last of his drink. "I guess I've learned not to."

=0=

**End. **

**So this was rather short, and a little choppy, but it's just filler. I wanted to show home life ;)**

**The reason I took so long was that my room got damaged by Sandy and then I was playing catch-up in school…and writing another original story. XP I'll try to update sooner next time. *sigh***

**~YellowWomanontheBrink, Dec.12.2012**

**P.S. 12.12.12, get it? XD **


	10. Eleven O'Clock Chipperness

**Hello. I actually had this all up and ready to go on Saturday, but it seems the fates are utterly against me finishing this story. (Explanation at the end) But have no fear! I shall fight the fates with all my abilities….no matter how long it takes me to update, this story will never be abandoned. It is my pride and joy (concerning fanfiction). This chapter actually told from Rihan's point of view for a change! Yaaay! **

And here it is….

The early afternoon quickly morphed into the early evening and Wakana had finished her homework, she was practically squirming in anticipation as she carried out her duties and calculated her pay and how much she'd have to pay for rent. Luckily, her mother wasn't hanging around and watching intently like a zombie, so that made her work so much easier. Unfortunately, easier was equivalent to faster and so her work was finished so much faster than it usually would be and left her with staring at the wall eagerly again, doing all sorts of juvenile things to keep herself entertained—tapping her foot, kicking her feet, counting the circles on her only pair of stylish sock, pulling at the loose threads in the warm yukata she wore…

It was frustrating to say in the least, and she wished she had a full sized bed so that she might have been able to flop onto exasperatedly.

_Why, _she thought, sitting on that lonely wooden chair in a mostly empty room filled with wood and sunlight, _am I so nervous?_

She had never really been afraid of people; in fact, she was one of the most extroverted people she knew. Once you understood someone, you had nothing to fear, they were open to you—no matter how guarded on the outside they were. You didn't have to know someone's name to get a reading for their character, for it was in their face, their body and words and interactions with the world. Once their façade was recognized, all you had to do was keep an open mind, and that disguise could be stripped away and met with opened arms.

It was why she feared {for} her mother. That fear, that terror and sadness penetrated and dominated and consumed her mother's whole being, and it looked like there was nothing beneath, nothing _worth_ looking at. It was as if she was a corpse.

It was why she feared for Rihan. Behind his lackadaisical, quiet demeanor burned something so dark, so bright and sad, yet reminiscent she couldn't identify it. Were all yokai like this? So…incomprehensible?

She let out a slow breath and stopped fidgeting. Fidgeting would get nothing done, especially if it turned out he was coming. (She was _afraid _he wasn't coming.)

She thought of that hesitant tone he answered with when she asked a question, and those slightly cold eyes (she wasn't sure if he was aware of the coldness he maybe unintentionally presented her with) when she talked about family—or indeed, asked him about his.

He was her door to the world she knew nothing of, but yearned to see with her whole heart—a world she was isolated from, but one that had managed to dip in and out easily into her life and take whatever she it wanted. And all her inquiries were left unanswered, and her mother (someone normal) left with a passionate terror of the night. One Wakana failed to feel.

It was in that exact moment that she realized what she felt. It wasn't the fear, or nervousness, it was lack of faith. Wakana had a mask too—however thin it was. She didn't trust as easily as it looked she did. Just like she didn't trust Fujimoto to be her friend, even if he walked her dutifully home from school, she didn't trust Rihan with her faith—he had been less than steady in his appearances and attitudes, and the way he treated her.

_I guess…it's the same for me isn't it?_ She smirked, though it wasn't a particularly nice one. _I haven't been wholeheartedly honest with him either. _She flopped back desolately on her chair. _How can I say I want to be his friend when I haven't been acting like it? I've just been treating him like an info source, like those old guys the historians interview. _She ran a hand through her thick hair, tied up semi-neatly in a bun. _Maybe I should stop pretending too…_

As she continued reflecting, the sun dipped deeper and deeper in the sky. Before she was really aware of herself, it was evening and she sighed in disappointment, standing up and listlessly wandering into the kitchen, where, true to expectations, Mizaki was smoking. She waved away the smoke and began digging through the cabinets, setting out the various ingredients she would need to make a small dinner for three.

And despite her hopes of a knock at her door, through the comfortable silence and clinking of utensils and soft chewing of food, no one came.

=0=

Rihan bid his time on her roof.

Despite the fact the fact his fear prevented him from being seen, every time he even neared her window, or the door, or even the _back _door, he was stopped by the presence of Wakana's mother—she stood perfectly still, like the statue of a skeleton and stared right at his approximate area, as if she could see him. It was starting to get the slightest bit annoying, how a single woman seemed to be a constant force field against his entry.

Eye closed in concentration; he blew his hair out of his eyes, where it settled comfortably beside his face. His clothes blew in the cool breeze. Even now, where he stood on the (now-clean) tiles he could hear them, even though they were mostly quiet. Her house was so silent…it lacked the liveliness his household had always displayed. He scowled as Wakana gathered the empty dishes and vanished into the kitchen, expertly weaving in and out of the various junk lying on the ground.

"Why am I even putting so much effort in this?" he muttered under his breath as he flipped back up, away from the window as skeletal woman's eyes suspiciously eyed the window he had just been in. Expertly, he walked over the top of the roof and flipped down, watching through the tiny kitchen window, where she tiredly scrubbed the small plates and bowls. She never even looked up, no matter how close to the window she got in putting away the wet dishes she had washed. Per his expectations.

She muttered under her breath, though Rihan couldn't hear her words. He examined her as she bustled around the kitchen, and though it wasn't evident in her movements, the disappointment was prominent on her face.

Fuck it all. He would see her today, regardless of whether or not her mother was there or not.

He sat on the cold roof, staring as the rims of gold disappeared over trees and the mountain and the night was enshrouded in dark blue. Stars began to appear and were covered by thin cirrus clouds that made the night look eerily beautiful. At least, in his eyes. Some others might have found it creepy as the trees began swaying without a breeze and the night began.

His mouth was a tight line as he once again shifted his position on her roof, appearing above the windows to her room, where she had been moping and writing most of the day. She tucked her mother in bed, whispering assurances and smiling brightly in the dimly lit room.

Kokoro wasn't listening. She was staring right at Rihan, and the terror radiating off of her made his yokai blood sing. He smirked slightly, though he resisted the urge to wave.

It was _hours_ before she was asleep. Rihan swung himself easily into the room, waiting for the still awake Wakana to crawl out of bed. Her arms were tight around her head, hair tangled and splayed across her face. Her mouth was slightly open.

Her eyes were wide, and tears were shining in them. Though she was silent, he could tell she was lost in contemplation. Suddenly, she flung herself up from her bed, throwing her legs out and rolling with a certain sort of routine, standing and staring up at the partly cloudy sky.

As soon as her hands touched the window sill, his hands found her shoulder and he cancelled his fear.

She started and almost shrieked in surprise, though his hands were faster and he covered her mouth. Against his chest, he could feel her heart beat erratically, though she quickly relaxed against his touch.

"Rihan-san," she breathed. His hand was warm with her breath, and they stood still for a few seconds before Wakana exploded into whispered motion.

"Oh, Rihan, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were going to be coming at this hour of the _night_," her face bore an expression of annoyance, before she flicked his nose. Hard.

He blinked, slightly cross-eyed. Sighing, he ruffled the much shorter girl's messed up hair and clicked his tongue.

"Well, I am a yokai, right?" he said flatly as he let her go and sat cross-legged on the floor, pulling out his pipe and fiddling around for a match to light it with.

She blinked owlishly. "Huh. I never thought of that," she said quietly, eyeing her mother still sleeping in the far corner of the room. "Come on, let's go. Why do you always have to come when I'm not prepared?"

She smiled at his, face half-illuminated by the moonlit room and grabbed his arm, sliding the door open almost silently and pulling him into the hallways he was semi-familiar with, pulling him into a room and flicking on the light—not that it made much of a difference. Except now the room was yellow and there was a lot less shadows. This room was almost as empty as the one Wakana rented with her mother, though Wakana seemed familiar enough with it as she jogged to one of the back closets and pulled out a low collapsible table and setting it up.

"I can't find any chairs, so we'll have to sit on the floor. Sorry if it's dusty, I don't get enough time to clean every room all the time. Mind yourself!"

She rushed out of the room, sliding the door shut behind her. He stared at the semi-translucent pattern on the neglected door, before blinking and shutting one eye in contemplation. He frowned and checked the sky outside.

_How can anyone be this cheery at eleven o'clock? _

Quickly enough, Wakana strode in with a tray, walking carefully and raising the tray nearly above her head so that she could stare at the ground rather than in front of her. Steam drifted lazily from the top of the teapot, and small mismatched cups were balanced expertly in her capable hands. She rapidly placed the cups down on the small table, which wiggled slightly with the added weight, and rushed back shutting off the light again. The room was only illuminated by the moonlight streaming in from the open windows. A slight chill pervaded the room.

She flopped down, jumping right back up. "Oh, god! The floor's cold! How can you just sit on it like that?" She smoothed her shirt down over her legs, and Rihan didn't deny himself the right to sneak a peek at her legs. They weren't that long, still in the awkward teenage state. Her ankles were small compared to her calves. His eye rotated, and focused back on her smiling face as she poured them both a cup.

She didn't say anything. She just…stared, and Rihan stared back through one eye. She made no move towards her cup, and so, neither did he. The silence was quickly becoming awkward, and her chocolate gaze was starting to perturb him.

"What?" he asked slightly annoyed. She shrugged, finally grabbing her cup.

"I was wondering if you were going to say anything, or if you were just going to stare at me the whole night," she said, rubbing her finger around the rim of her cup before taking a sip. Rihan stared at her finger, glistening and wet, before staring back up at her.

"I guess that you're just going to stare at me! That's okay I suppose I could stare back, I mean, I once stared at a guy for hours on end but he never noticed….ummm…he had taken a book from my bag and thought I wouldn't noticed because I wasn't looking directly at him." She smiled, laughing nervously. "I was trying to force my will upon him from a distance?"

_What the hell did she just say?_ "Ummm…right." He said slowly, a smirk crawling upon his face. "Did it work?"

She shook her head, sighing. "Nope! I had to stalk him after school and pretend to be his girlfriend so I could crawl into his bedroom window. He denied it ever happening."

Rihan was seriously starting to be weirded out; every single time he went to visit this girl, there seemed to be something new or utterly different about her personality. He felt as if every single encounter he'd had with her could have been a different person. Unable to think up a proper response to her rather odd story, he cocked his eyebrow in confusion. "And you're telling me this…why?"

"Because it was relevant at the time. You were staring at me, so I told a story about staring."

Rihan was silent for a little, and then his face twitched as she stared brightly and expectantly at him. "That's ridiculous, you know that?"

She shrugged. "I don't care, because I thought it was funny." She bit the inside of her mouth in contemplation, sipping on her now cool tea. Rihan still hadn't touched his.

Her smile fell from her face, and she put her cup down. "Why are you being so distant, Rihan-san? I thought it was established that I have no interest in a romantic relationship with you. We're not even _talking._ I'm talking, and you're barely reacting. I feel like you don't even want to be here. Explain."

He stared back at her (_this girl barely out of adolescence, ordering around the nidaime of the greatest yokai group in all of Japan)_ and tried to smile. (_Sorry.)_

Emphasis on tried.

So he yelped when she shot off the floor, sliding the table aside and straddling him, and—

_Pulling on his face, really, really hard._

She yanked everything; she forced his eyes open, pulled on his eyebrows, pinched the straight bridge of his nose and caressed his jaw line with absolutely no gentleness. His cheeks were pulled up, down, left, right, and it choked his yelps of surprise, and then he lost his balance and fell onto the floor, bumping his head and splaying his long hair all over the place.

She was off him as quickly as she was on, and it was then that Rihan realized that it happened in only a few seconds. She rearranged her small pajamas on her figure (_god he wish that she had worn a yukata or something, she was so indecently dressed) _plopped down at her side of the table, ignoring the spilled tea and sipping calmly.

"What the hell was that for?" he said, shock permeating his tone. She looked up coyly from beneath her eyelids, smiling behind the edge of her teacup.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to make sure you could move your face, so I didn't end up insulting you or anything. You kind of looked like a zombie."

"Zombie?"

"Yup!"

"Western zombies?" His voice was deadpan.

"Why not! You show such little expression, and it wouldn't surprise me if an obeah man or something found its way here and turned a nurarihyon into a zombie!"

Rihan shook his head. "That's not possible."

She cocked her head in curiosity, and Rihan noted (slightly annoyed) that her mouth was twisted up in the joy of victory. A small one, but one nonetheless. She always indulged herself in the smallest of things.

"Yokai would prevent any foreign powers from even touching our soil. They even prevent foreigners from the same land from reaching each other's turf. It's a very set system, and something no yokai would ever betray."

Wakana frowned a little in contemplation. "But humans intermix all the time, and –"

"We're not human. Besides, nowadays, humans have lost their faith in yokai," he had sat up in a somewhat respectful position. "But not their fear and it's why we carry on. So we claim a spot and defend our belief and our fear with everything we have."

He felt slightly ridiculous after saying those words, and turned his face away from her and closed his eyes. To his surprise, she didn't laugh. When he cracked open one eye to take a peek at her, she wasn't even smiling; rather, she was examining him closely.

"That's a…interesting concept," she said slowly. "Why don't you guys just unite then? You said you wanted to preserve your 'fear', right?"

"It's complicated," he dismissed her question. But she leaned forward, and her eyes were bright in the darkness with anticipation.

"So explain it to me," she whispered, quieter than she had been whispering before.

=0=

**I am so, so sorry. I've just had some really shitty circumstances and just…urghh. **

**But I've been writing this the entire time, don't worry~! The most primary problem I had getting this chapter out was actually typing it up. Grrr. I share this new laptop with my two sister, and they've been hogging it non-stop. And second, I was torn between trying to get this thing worthy of being called a romance story…and that chapter was crap, so I scrapped it and went with my intuition. I really like this chappy so far. ^_^**

**Late-night meeting with Rihan and Wakana will be finished next chapter. This chapter would have been up last Saturday, but my desktop went fucking psycho and I lost this one and two more stories. And Auto-Recovery didn't work. *rageface***

**For this chappy, you could thank ****_TheCaramelSecrets _****and Gladys Knight. I was listening to an old album and just got punched in the face with hardcore INSPIRATION! And her review was what spurred me to get off my ass and get this thing done.**

**I'm not even worthy of begging for reviews. DX**

**Thank you all for being patient with me. I lurvs you!**

**~YellowWomanontheBrink, **

**Jan.27.2013 **

**(P.S. BTW, I found a really great site for examination on Japanese mythology. If you're as into it as I am, check out this website! It'll be on my profile too, if the link doesn't show up...**

**-hyakumonogatari . com **

**I've been looking for more yokai to incorporate in my story (and indeed make sure they're not already in NuraMago verse-like Awashima and the amanojaku), so if you know any, pm me or review. Thank you!) **


	11. Brotherhood?

"So explain it to me," she said, voice breathy, her heart pounding. Rihan was slightly surprised to find his heart rate just slightly accelerated as well. She was across the table, but her focused gaze and manner, her utterly rapt attention seemed to put him in close proximity. He idly wondered how her stares would fare against any of the boss leaders.

"Why should I?" he said coyly, and though her unfaltering smile twitched just slightly, she licked her lips in anticipation.

"Because I wanna know. There doesn't have to be a reason."

They stared intently at each other for a few more minutes, Wakana through wide brown eyes that seemed glassy in the moonlight, and Rihan through a single narrowed one. The corner of his mouth twitched and he softly laughed.

"Pity anyone who gets in a staring contest with you," he said, eyeballing his formerly untouched cup of tea and speculating whether anything was still salvageable. "All right…what's one thing that is practically guaranteed about humans?"

Wakana's smile dropped from her face as she contemplated, sipping and then biting her lower lip. "We live?"

Rihan rolled his eyes at her hesitant answer. "_No._ You're all different." He folded his hands in his lap and stared at her unfalteringly firm face. "Humans have different ideals, and opinions—and just like humans, yokai do as well."

Realization dawned upon her, and Rihan fought the urge to smirk viciously as an apologetic expression bloomed, along with a light blush on her face.

"I had assumed…" she said, sentence trailing off. The room was quiet for a quick second, and Rihan started up again.

"Because we all have different ideas about how to spread our fear, how to achieve the pinnacle of fear, and in some cases, what the essence of fear is itself, there are bound to be severe disagreements."

"But the weak often get swallowed up by the troubles of the strong, so they turn to the ones who can support, but most importantly, _fight_ for what they believe. And the strong ones that are in either agreement or mutual respect become brothers-in-arms, and sometimes more."

He swallowed and stared out the window. "At least, that's how it started out."

His eyes flicked to where Wakana had put down her tea and was now staring solemnly at him. Her tongue darted out against her lips and Rihan resisted the urge to respond in kind.

She didn't say anything for a while, and Rihan could see the remains of the angry girl that had lashed out at his arrogance in her position and her eyes. He cocked and incentive eyebrow.

"I thought I was the one that stilted a conversion," he joked lightly, secretly hoping he could light a pipe at the moment. Anything to do other than watching her contemplating his words.

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking is all…I never thought that a bunch of yokai would form a brotherhood…its very underground," she beamed back at him.

"Underground?"

"Illegal. Like gangs. Especially considering that your purpose is to spread fear."

Despite her tone, she sounded genuinely curious. He was curious as well-well, more incredulous.

"Gangs?"

"Like the Yakuza!"

"Do I look like I have tattoos ?"

She shrugged and looked at him from the corner of her gaze mischievously. "Yes, you seem like that kind of person…maybe your back or something...are your balls tattooed too?"

He coughed quietly into his hands. "I have no idea where you hear things like that. I'm not part of the yakuza, though I'm sure that they'd be honored to be compared to the likes of me," he teased, a small smile pulling at his lips as Wakana's eyes widened in horror.

"What! What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said."

She pouted, though her face couldn't stay straight for long and she smiled. "So what, did you raise the yakuza or something? Or let me guess? Yokai founded them?"

"I would not be too surprised if that was the case, Wakana-chan," he said flatly, staring at her bright expression.

"I wouldn't be either. Because, you know, the Yakuza are gang leaders, but they aren't entirely bad either. That's not to say I agree with some of heir moral or issues, but most of them stick with each other. They are their own society, tied intricately to each other, regardless of consequences or what common law says," she stared into her empty cup, "They take care of their own, just unfortunately at the expense of others. I like to think of gangs like that as a gray area."

She licked her dry lips and looked under wide, hooded eyelids at him.

"I think there's something noble in a sort of brotherhood like that. But I guess I can only say that because I am not in a gang, hmm?"

"Yes," he said, staring at her intensely as she leaned forward suggestively, determined to stare at her face and not anything lower (she was too young to be looking at him like that).

"So…are you in sort of supernatural yokai gang? What perspective do you hold in this 'spreading of fear' as you put it?"

_ Strange that her expression never changes...Never seen a smiley poker face…on a human at least, _ he thought, leaning backwards and closing his eye, not giving her the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Don't you know that's a question you should never ask a gang member? If he's in a gang, that is."

She snorted back laughter at the small silly grin that had started to adorn his face, though it wasn't at any memory she would find pleasant, or funny. But all the humans and yokai from enemies he had ever interrogated seemed to be reluctant to admit who they served, until their last breath before they passed out.

"But _you_ really shouldn't have to ask a yokai. Normally it's the first thing you could figure out about them; you'll either be alive and terrified or a corpse for your family—"

He froze at the severe wince that pervaded her pleasant demeanor. She fell backward on her ankles and stopped smiling, gathering up the tray and cups.

"So I guess I know where that puts you then, right Rihan-san?" she said, smile back as if it had never fallen. "I'd love to meet your brothers someday, then. For now, I've kinda got to go to sleep. The sun'll be up soon, and I have chores!"

He stood as well, as fluid as he had been when he sat down. "Right. Chores."

_I feel like an asshole now,_ he grimaced._ She's a girl who just her sister and I had to say that?_

Something about this girl…Wakana…

He found himself alone in the room as the dawn rapidly approached, waiting for her to come back and say goodbye, to remind him incessantly to return next Saturday, for him to agree in his normal dismissing, offhand way.

She did not come back, and Rihan left the house himself in a rush of fear.

* * *

><p>Wakana did not even bother cleaning the dishes, scowling when she saw that Rihan had not even taken a sip of what she had prepared for him.<p>

_Corpse for your family…to bury hmm? If only that. Then at least, I wouldn't have to speak to smoke in hopes of trying to talk to her. _

As much as she would like to pretend, the memory of her sister's death still hung over her head, and tainted even Rihan's presence around her. She liked his dry sardonic, sarcastic responses, rare as they were, and this was the first real time she had had the opportunity to talk to him without being traumatized, bleeding, or strangers, and she had to get touchy over an unintended comment. How could he have known? If how offhand his comment was about dead humans said anything, it proved how common deaths like the ones Aiko had suffered were.

Suck out the organs and destroy the evidence.

But Rihan had saved her, two, three times now, and she was only pulling herself farther into his debt, whether he knew or not, by asking him questions, by prying open his knowledge of the world he lived and breathed in, a world she was never supposed to be in, a world she insistently tried to immerse herself in.

_Oh please, you couldn't beat off two kiddies with a stick,_ a wiser, bitter part of her muttered.

_I held them off well enough, they saw me as a threat…._ She thought defensively back to herself.

Collapsing into her low bed, she stared at the ceiling as dawn's light washed the room in pink.

_Just what have I got myself involved in?_ She thought. Now that she really thought about it, she had dug herself a hole of foolishness. Her sister was dead, killed by a powerful creature, and here she was, chasing after a fantasy world with no knowledge. And that knowledge she chased was something you learned in blood—that attack on her, just investigating a forest had been like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was fast paced, and it humbled her and terrified her like nothing else she had ever experienced in her life.

This world she knew nothing about, this world that killed her sister, that raped her mother and tossed her into the dysmorphic abyss had just been opened a little more to her, crack by crack.

She shuddered and turned over, closing her eyes.

She loved it.

** Yeah, short chapter. If any of you guys have been on my profile, you'd know that I was on hiatus because of school and really difficult home. But don't worry. For the next three months, I should be free to write everything. Thank for sticking with this despite my very sporadic updates, despite all my attempts to create a schedule.**

**Thank you to 'my lovers are in anime' (me too), Mikochansweden, and Kayrin, for favoriting!**

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	12. An Excerpt With Kurotabou

Usually, Kurotabou could claim not to be easy to surprise. However, Rihan seemed to be able to do just that. And by doing the simplest of simple things, too. He managed to surprise the assassin simply by showing up. Frequently.

He really didn't start to get suspicious until his boss came home in a perfectly agreeable mood, smiling. Kurotabou could not remember Rihan smiling as openly as he was at that moment that he pushed aside the doors of the kitchen in decades. Not since Rihan had saved him.

He kept to himself, though. If he knew his brother as well as he liked to think, any sort of interrogation would either be deflected or ignored. He had been nagging the hanyou about his constant absence long enough.

Rihan still vanished every now and then, on his solo 'missions'—every Saturday, he left in the evening and did not return until early in the morning when most of the yokai in the house were either asleep or resting. He no longer actively avoided Kurotabou, and that was a small burden off of his chest, though a relief it was not. His master was as secretive and introverted as he ever was.

Kurotabou looked up; he would recognize those heavy, planted footsteps anywhere. Aotabou came from the porch doors, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. Kurotabou fought back the urge to sigh; usually an expression like that was followed by an insane plot of some sort or a spar (what Kurotabou considered a spar and what Aotabou considered a spar differentiated greatly). Either that or he had successfully infuriated Kubinashi in some way that would end up with Kejouro out for blood.

Seeing as neither Kejouro nor Kubinashi was shrieking, Kurotabou was more inclined to believe that it was the former over the latter. Unfortunately, this also made escaping whatever 'scheme' Aotabou had cooked up would be a thousand times more difficult to decline.

The problem was not often turning it down; it was smothering his own curiosity.

"Oi, Kurotabou," Aotabou said after seating himself heavily down on the porch overlooking the garden, "I'm not the only one who's noticed anything off about Rihan-sama, am I?"

Kurotabou shrugged noncomitally. Everyone in the house noticed the heavy sadness that had enshrouded their master for years being slightly alleviated as time went on. They did not speak of it, lest the ever so perceptive Rihan catch onto them and start hiding things again. If there was one thing that Kurotabou was certain of, it was that Rihan did not like having his secrets found out before he was ready. He kept his heart and his emotion close to his chest, and revealed nothing to anyone.

"Please tell me you did not just notice?" he asked.

Aotabou snorted. "I'm strong, not stupid, fool. I notice these things. He's been out of the house more then ever, and I think I saw him smile."

He looked up, genuinely surprised. "He smiled?"

Aotabou shrugged. "He looked at a tea table, and then he just laughed as if the table had muttered a joke that only he could hear."

Kurotabou raised an eyebrow. "I'm fairly certain that the tea table is not a yokai. It isn't nearly old enough. If I remember correctly, we only replaced it last week."

Aotabou rolled his eyes. "Fool! I didn't mean it like that, and you know it. I think the boss has got himself a _someone_ outside of the mansion, if you know what I mean. Otherwise, he wouldn't be going to such lengths to avoid us here."

"And who are you to presume to know the master's feelings? As far as I know, the only one who has ever brought Rihan-sama true happiness was Otome-sama, and he speaks nothing of her since her d-dissapearance."

Aotabou pretended not to notice Kurotabou's slip-up; to acknowledge the former lady of the house as 'dead' was comparable to blasphemy. However, everyone in the house but rihan was rather firmly convinced of the woman's death, but no one but Nurarihyon was able to talk to Rihan about it, and even then, the occurrence was rare. Denial wasa powerful emotion, and Rihan's denial was as strong as his will.

That is, it was very strong indeed.

That was why Kurotabou was inwardly surprised that Aotabou had just stormed in, certain that Rihan was seeing someone. The entire idea of it was ludicrous. Kurotabou had seen his master, his brother in arms in love once upon a time, but it had been many years ago, and however more pleasant his attitude was now, in love he was not.

"I don't make any presumptions, Kuro, and I'm not suggesting anything in particular—"

"Then why exactly are you harassing me with your suspicions –"

"Why are _you_ interruptingme when—"

"Well if you'd stop making stupid—"

"Kurotabou!"

"_Aotabou!"_

They glowered at each other for a second, before Aotabou irritably knocked off Kurotabou's hat and sent it flying. They glared at each other for a few seconds more, before Kurotabou sighed and acquiesced.

"I've noticed he's never home on Saturdays," he said slowly, carefully. "But them, he was frequently out before. We all know that he sought Yamabuki."

"Yes, but he hasn't come home and drowned his sorrow in alcohol upon return like he normally does. He smiles at coffee tables." Aotabou grimaced, then grinned. "That means that when he's vanishing, he's not searching. I can always tell when he's come back from searching for her. I've known that boy for a long, long time an dI can usually tell whebn he's sweet on a girl."

Kurotabou sniffed, unimpressed. "Yes, I figured." He hadn't really. He had tried to prevent thinking too deeply about Rihan's slight change in character, preferring to take his chances rather than prying and risking Rihan closing up again.

Prying was Kubinashi's job, for all he cared. As long as Rihan was happier than he had been, Kurotabou would accept it.

"And you have not been curious in the slightest?" Aotabou asked, leaning in and smirking.

"No."

"That's a lie, and you know it. Now, I'd be after Rihan-sama myself, but unfortunately, I'm not exactly the sneaky type, and that boy is slick, especially when he's off after a girl. A shit liar, but good at avoiding questions he doesn't want to answer," Aotabou grumbled.

Kurotabou shrugged Aotabou's heavy hand off of him. He had not noticed when the man put it there, so wrapped up in his thoughts was he.

Truly, now that the idea was put into his mind, Kurotabou could not forget it, and more and more oddities kept popping up into his head—not just the lighter moods and the rescinding gloom over the household, but the odd smiles and that fact that he was home.

It was all very peculiar indeed.

"What do you want me to do about it?" he said quietly, choosing not to look up into the older yokai's face for fear of seeing the hopeful expression that would without a doubt be growing there.

"Find out what he does on Saturdays, why don't you? I know he's up to something, and if he's beng played, I don't want to risk it if it's someone untrustworthy."

Kurotabou's eyes widened and he whipped his head back to glare at the muscular yokai behind him. "You want me to spy on Rihan-sama!?"

"Yes," he said flatly. "And I want you to take Kubinashi with you."

Kurotabou worried his lip and scowled. Kubinashi was one of the more difficult yokai to work with, and Kurotabou, who had little patience for his type detested working with him. Being one of the more powerful types of yokai, neither of them worked very often with each other when Rihan was not there to mediate.

Kurotabou trusted Kubinashi wholeheartedly, but he would be lying though his teeth if he said he liked the prickly demon.

"Surely you're joking?" Kurotabou asked, "Kubinashi can stand no one, and no one can stand him."

"I'm not," Aotabou pressed. "Think of it; you don't have to tail him exactly, but just find out where he's going and tell Nurarihyon!"

"_I will not," _Kurotabou said sharply, now glaring at Aotabou. "There are only so many of your stupid ideas I can take, but I think this far outweighs the rest of them."

Aotabou glared and reflexively flexed his heavy jaw. "If you want to be that way, then fine. I'm sure that Kubinashi could do it better than you anyway!"

With that the kishin stormed off—probably to locate Kubinashi. Kurotabou knew he was probably easier to deal with than the onery yokai, and so had been approached first.

But now that Aotabou had sowed the thought, he couldn't unplant the seeds of the ludicrous idea that had begun to blossom inside his head.

What had Rihan been doing? He worried constantly for the rather secretive hanyou, though he knew that the worry was mostly unfounded now that he had returned home. He was also well aware that Rihan was powerful and could easily take down any threat that he came across nowadays.

However, Rihan was just that much stronger when the strength of his hyakki was behind him. And he had been without that strength of his own choice for a long while, both in spirit and in _matoi_.

Kurotabou licked his lips in contemplation as he crossed his pegs and leaned back onto the porch, staring at the wood ceiling that obscured the now evening sky from his view. Soon, the creatures of the night would awaken, and the mansion would be lively with yokai. The sky was red, and would be for a short time before the darkness claimed the sky early. The breeze was brisk and cool and worried his clothes.

_How droll,_ he thought, scowling._ Here I am thinking about spying…questioning Rihan…_

But then, when he had sworn his loyalty to Rihan, he had been given a freedom he had not had when he was a slave to the human's wishes, nor a slave to his former clan. He could do it; it was well within his abilities, and he had done it before…he just lacked the endurance that Rihan had and so had always fallen behind when chasing Rihan.

But his vanishings…apparently, the last time Rihan had vanished the way he had was when he met his wife, and no one knew he was courting her until he brought her home, and he was certain no one could refute their relationship.

Rihan was afraid like that.

Damn.

Damn it all.

Aotabou had made Kurotabou certain he was chasing a girl, and now this thought was unshakable in his head. But whatever the problem was, he certain that _stalking _Rihan would answer no questions. He would ask him, nicely, and hope that Rihan would actually give him a straight answer.

The moon was well in to the sky when Kurotabou finally gathered the courage to locate Rihan, who was, like usual, by his favorite tree. The tree was bare—as it often was when it wasn't spring (strange, because as far as Kurotabou remember, it habitually bloomed out of season, whenever it felt like it. It would be the middle of December and it would in full bloom as if it were April.

Rihan sat at the base of the tree, rather than in the branches, so Kurotabou walked easily towards the hanyou and situated himself comfortably. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Kurotabou watched the sky; the moon was waning, a crescent in the sky, half covered by clouds. The crisp November air fogged his breath.

After another second of lackluster silence, Rihan opened one eye and looked over at Kurotabou, smiling easily. Genuinely surprised, Kurotabou started and stared at Rihan.

"Hey, Kurotabou," he said quietly, hardly disturbing the night air, "what do you want?'

Kurotabou shrugged and crossed his legs, turning his eys down to the ground. "You've been gone." He said simply.

"Not as often as I used to be!" Rihan said cheerily, eyes still firmly on the sky. "I thought you guys were done nagging me about it?"

His tone was light, but the question was genuine. His one amber eye was now focused intently on the former assassin.

"I'm not here to nag," Kurotabou protested. "I just want to know if you've met anyone."

"You know I'll never meet anyone again," Rihan said firmly.

Kurotabou sincerely doubted that, but did not voice his thoughts. "Not like that, and you know that I didn't mean it like that. But I'd like to know if someone knew were to join the Hyakki."

Rihan blinked, then cackled surprisingly. "She'd love that, wouldn't she?"

Kurotabou had no idea, seeing as Rihan had never specified the 'she' that he spoke of. He settled for a shrug.

"You'd hate her," he joked, and slid both his eyes shut. Kurotabou blinked and stared at Rihan suspiciously, though the hanyou said no more.

He didn't say anything else fro the rest of the night, and so Kurotabou was left to his thoughts.

**I'm so sorry.**

**I have no excuses, I've missed writing this fic so much! But my parents broke up, and well, you know….**

**Writing from Kurotabou's point of view was refreshing, like, it just cured all of my writer's block, and the words just flowed….tell me what you think?**

**I haven't got enough time to thank all my reviewers(library's about to close) , but know that every time I felt like shit, reading your reviews picked my day back up again! I can't promise my next update will be certain, but I'm definitely working on this fic. ;) Thank you guys!**

**Novermber 18, 2013**

**7:32 pm.**


	13. Another Excerpt with a Character

`Chapter 13`

"_You'd hate her." _

Rihan had joked about it, maybe, but the thought had stuck on Kurotabou's mind for a long while after he had disappeared once again. Kurotabou was almost completely certain that wherever Rihan went, it was to be with someone he loved, whether Rihan realized it or not-though Kurotabou doubted that he did know if it was genuine. Rihan knew his heart well and completely defied all stereotypes of the clueless man.

He only worried that whoever this mystery yokai was; she knew what she held in her hands.

Now, whether that was a good or bad thing was debatable.

Kurotabou had been deftly avoiding both Kubinashi and Aotabou, though he knew from careless gossip that Kubinashi had tried to track the boss twice to his meeting place, but had been thrown off both times and returned in the most frightening huff. It was said to rival the times from when he first swore loyalty to the clan and obeyed no one but Rihan.

Tonight, Rihan would return from yet another outing, and Kurotabou will have missed his third chance to follow him. The warrior monk had no doubt that Aotabou was probably grumbling about his inactivity for the past three weeks, to anyone who would listen, but Kurotabou kept no one's counsel but his own, and his own counsel told him that it was best to heed Rihan's wishes.

Though, he could not help but wonder what exactly set this girl he had been dedicating his entire weekends to apart from the other women that had tried to fill the bleeding chasm in Rihan's heart. What did she have that made her so dangerous to the clan that she was kept away from the most powerful brotherhood in West Japan?

He doubted the girl was human-bright and flirtatious as Rihan might have been, he was fragile hearted and did not trust easily, never mind devoting a considerable amount of attention to some random girl.

Maybe the yokai was a man?

Kurotabou was pretty certain he knew the nidaime well enough to be certain he did not swing that way. Plus, he knew humans found homosexuality perverted, though he had seen worse perversion among the spirits of the night and managed to be mostly unfazed.

The picture of Rihan with his arms wrapped lovingly around a broad, muscular man was immediately shuddered out of his system. He suddenly felt thirsty and itched for a drink, and strong one. And perhaps some brain bleach as well.

The house was mostly quiet, and Kurotabou sat by his lonesome on his room in the great mansion. The tatami was out and cleaned from his sleep in the daytime, but the walls were partly bared, if only because Kurotabou enjoyed looking at the delicate looking sculpted wood.

The walls looked thin as paper, Kurotabou knew from experience that nothing short of a bomb detonating would shatter it.

It almost reminded Kurotabou of Rihan's hands, and just his hands. They were small and dainty enough to look like they belonged to a princess; according to the older yokai lords, his mother's hands. But Kurotabou knew that in the right moods, those small hands could clench around an unsuspecting throat with an unyielding iron grasp

Idly, he pondered if Rihan had touched this unknown with those healing, damning hands of his, whether he had taken a life for her with those hands like he had for Lady Otome, whether those hands had picked flowers and weaved crowned and ornaments and wreaths for his woman.

A slam reverberated through the house, as well as harsh and heavy cursing. The fact that it could be heard even over the loud nighttime din was testament to the sheer level of volume and intensity.

Kurotabou figured that Kubinashi had finally returned from yet another one of his stakeouts. He also suspected that said stakeout had been unsuccessful, if the vibrations in the walls and floors-a testament to the pounding that Aotabou had probably earned himself again after urging the neck-less youkai into the futile chase. A particularly harsh reverberation made the pictures hanging from his walls shake, and he had to actually squash a small bit of pity for the youkai, whether it was Aotabou or Kubinashi that had been struck.

Following a few more crashes, the house fell eerily silent; Nurarihyon or Kejorou must have stepped in. Irritably, he massaged the sensitive area around his small horns where a headache was blooming and stood up. He was determined to get his damn cup of tea. And he was fairly certain he would spike it too, though not as obviously as Kejouro would. He liked to think he had a bit more restraint than that, except for when he didn't.

The mansion was mostly silent but for the chattering of smaller yokai that loitered all over the dirty hallways. Kurotabou ignored him, and they mostly ignored him back. When he pushed the door open, he was greeted by a mess and a rush of escaping underlings. Rolling his eyes, he expertly navigated the mess and threw open one of the pantries, taking a strainer and a pot of already boiling water from the miraculously undestroyed stove in the corner of the kitchen. The sake was unfortunately destroyed; it had been in the middle of the kitchen, where the remains of the demolished table lay undisturbed.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for several seconds, before taking his cup of tea and leaving the room

He was stopped in the doorway way by none other than Kubinashi, who glared angrily at him.

"Kubinashi-san,' he drawled, pulling his sleeves from the neck-less yokai's grasp.

"You know where Rihan-sama goes," Kubinashi retorted.

Perhaps if he actually knew where his sworn brother went, he would not have been so annoyed by Kubinashi's lack of success or his accusations. But he didn't, and so the fact that Kubinashi had so thoughtlessly accused him did nothing to alleviate his irritation, which was quickly morphing into vexation. Maybe a vexed Kubinashi was more feared in general, but Kurotabou could his own against the hotheaded youkai quite well. He just didn't feel like it at the moment.

Right.

"I'd rather not talk about it, I don't know anything. The boss will tell us when he's ready," he breathed out, glaring straight into the eyes of the ornery assassin.

"Only because you already know! I saw Aotabou speaking to you about it!" Kubinashi growled.

"Aotabou was trying to coerce me into the same stupidity as you, fool!"

Kubinashi stopped, glaring at the former monk. Kurotabou took a deep breath and looked at his steaming tea. "I would like to know just as much as you, you know this. But pressuring Rihan-sama will accomplish nothing; he has to want to tell us himself."

Kubinashi ran a hand through his in frustration; his head had floated close enough to his neck for his arms to touch it. "I know. But boss keeps things close to his heart, and if no one pressures him, he won't say anything! He won't let me repay him, and if this girl hurts him-what if she's human?"

Kurotabou sneered. "I doubt Rihan-sama would be interested in _humans." _He said the word as if it were dirt on the tip of his tongue. "He would not go for something so weak-hearted."

Kubinashi glared sharply at Kurotabou. "Being an ayakashi doesn't ensure strength."

"I've never seen a strong human."

He bared his teeth in a grimace and stroked the pocket where he kept his string. "Yamabuki left because she was too weak-hearted to acknowledge her failures."

"Do not speak of Lady Otome like that," Kurotabou sighed. "It's your frustration talking. Come with me to my room."

Kubinashi rolled his eyes, hostile as ever. "I'll say what I want...maybe me and Rihan-sama should exchange a truth for a truth?"

Kurotabou glared at the neck-less yokai. "He would definitely honor the deal, but then, he would probably avoid answering your questions just as quickly as he would agree."

Kubinashi smirked, though his body was as tense as ever. He hardly ever really relaxed, unless he was with Rihan inside the manor or with Kejouro. "You never know until you try, do you?"

It was another week before Kubinashi put his plan into motion. He figured it was best to confront Rihan on Friday, early in the morning. It was usually before he got a bit of sake in his system, but before he got occupied with the duties of running the household. Even though the manner was alive at night, it was always easiest to deal with other yokai when they were at their weakest, but least irritable, and that was always just after the high of the night.

Rihan was in his room, reading an account-it looked more like a letter than an official document of any sort, but then, most yokai were pretty old fashioned. Kubinashi floated his head just a little bit higher; he could see a small, messy neat scrawl filling the page. Rihan's attention was firmly glued to the page, but he looked up and smiled slyly at Kubinashi.

Kubinashi's heart almost burst with the pleasure of seeing his brother in arms so relaxed and not stressed. Rihan without the anger reminded Kubinashi of the man that had saved him. He bowed in greeting, and Rihan nodded.

"What can I do for you?" Rihan asked, looking the other man up and down wryly. "I almost never see you around this early in the morning."

When Rihan gestured for Kubinashi to sit down, he took a seat at the small table in the corner of the room and Rihan poured him a cup of tea. He didn't drink it, watching Rihan's small hands nimbly handle the delicate china.

"I have had a question," Kubinashi started, slowly. Rihan glanced up. His pale eyes were piercingly intuitive.

"I have had a question," he started again, watching his boss just as intensely, "about who you see when you leave this house."

"I've left the house plenty of times before, you know. What makes you think I'm seeing anyone?" Rihan questioned, cocking an eyebrow. Trying to laugh it off as nothing serious.

Kubinashi scowled. "If you really weren't seeing anyone you wouldn't reply to me. I think you're seeing someone because you came back."

Rihan blinked, his expression never really shifting, but Kubinashi felt as if there was surprise in his eyes.

He took a deep breath and continued. "I think you're seeing someone because you smile more, you laugh more, you're here and you're not drowning in your own guilt. I think you've met someone that you're willing to listen to, because you're still being the same secretive bastard you've always been, but this time, I can't tell if your secrets are your own or someone else's."

Rihan licked his lips and sat up straight, folding his ankles over one another and from the folds of his yukata, pulled out a pipe. Kubinashi took a deep breath and tried to stifle his anger. He didn't want to make the situation any worse.

But now Kubinashi was healing, but he was doing it away from his home. Rihan had been miserable most of the time Kubinashi had known him, but Kubinashi would always remember the strength (both of fear and heart) of the Nidaime of the Nura, even if the strength of heart had been diminished ever since the former lady of the house had abandoned her clan.

Kubinashi had especially feared for Rihan in the first months after her departure; Rihan had been consumed by rage, and when the fires of his rage ran out of fuel, he had become numb but for the defense of his family. He was still so similar, but anyone who knew him could tell that something had broken.

It was being mended away from his family's eyes.

Rihan was a romantic at heart, and a tease, and Kubinashi trusted little that which required itself to be hidden. It was plain and clear on his face.

Rihan was many things, but a liar was not one of them.

Gnawing on the worn wood of his pipe, he contemplated his answer. "I'm not seeing anyone," he said. "Not in the way you think."

Kubinashi blinked. He had expected to meet much more resistance for this than that. But Rihan seemed almost eager to tell him, leaning forward.

"I ran into her when her sister was killed by a rogue yokai out in the city," he drawled, sipping from his cup almost delicately. "She's a little headstrong."

Kubinashi honestly could care less if the girl had four eyes and no hands. Rihan's eyes were bright, and he had a little wistful smile on his face. It was an idle expression of happiness. And it would be a sign of distrust for him not to trust Rihan's judgment. He liked to believe that was an adept judge of character.

How else could he have seen through the blood and viciousness of Kubinashi's fear?

"She's an ayakashi?" Kubinashi questioned. He had mostly forgotten about his plan by then. If Rihan was willing to be open enough without persuasion, then Kubinashi had no intentions of pressuring him to reveal what he wasn't willing to.

Rihan snorted. "Sometimes I think she wishes she was. I'm not sure."

"She hiding things from you?"

The hanyou rolled his eyes lightly. "You know, this is starting to feel a bit like an interrogation. My father has already decided to do that, if you don't mind."

"I'm not asking you anything that you're not willing to tell," Kubinashi retorted.

"Didn't know you were a mind reader."

The blonde yokai huffed in annoyance.

"Then tell me, just one thing," Kubinashi asked, face straight as can be, "Tell me where you go. If you won't tell me anything, I'll make judgments on my own. It's been nearly two years since we ran into any trouble where a human died, so you've been keeping this to yourself for longer than that."

Rihan bit his lip, and narrowed his eyes. "You're talking about the basan, aren't you?"

"Aren't you?"

They stared at each for a long, silent minute.

It was the longest minute that Kubinashi ever felt like he had sat through, before he smiled. It was not a real smile, not a face splitting smirk, just a small incline of the lips. But the look in his eyes had lightened and he leant forward ever so slightly. As a former assassin, Kubinashi noticed these little things, and they did little to relieve his anxiety.

At long last, Rihan nodded.

"But not tomorrow," he said. He looked back down to his correspondence and the table, and Kubinashi got the feeling of dismissal.

He stood, bowed, and exited the room, sliding the door shut behind him.

Only after the door closed, and the air settled when he let out a long breath did he realize that Rihan had never really specified when. But Rihan had honor and kept his promises, and Kubinashi was willing to trust his boss.

**Well, guys, here it is. A new chapter. On the bright side, I updated quicker than last time! Unfortunately, it still took a damn long time. **

**I still consider myself on hiatus in general; writing has been difficult for me lately. The situation has brightened some, it's no longer ass-cold, and I mostly managed to bring up my grades, so…**

**Next chapter, shit should begin to go down. ^_^ We'll be back in Wakana and Rihan's pov.**

**Writing Kubinashi was fun as hell. Tell me if you think he's ooc. I'd also love to hear what you'd like from this fic. **

**This is officially AU, by the way. I fucked up the timeline; according to the Nuramago wiki, Wakana married Rihan and had Rikuo when she was sixteen. I'm going to move that forward a year or so. In case you hadn't noticed, she was fourteen at the beginning of the story when her sister died, but it was nearly a year before she moved to Nejireme and began to talk to Rihan. The past chapters have progressed over another year, so she'd be sixteen (or almost sixteen) now...but there ain't no babies planned yet. :P I'll straighten out the timeline next chapter's A/N.**


	14. Summer Days Drifting Away

**Hello. Short beginner's author's note because it's taken me so long to update! Sorry, but this had to be good. I've written (and deleted) this chapter almost four times now. Next chapter I tie it to canon and so will begin the Rikana goodness. XD It's only been two months this time at least, and I've got all summer to write! Holla!**

**Thank you to everyone who's still reading, new and old, as well as all my reviewers from last chapter and all the new followers and everyone who fav'd.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

Wakana almost felt bad about lying to her mother (again).

Her desire to see Rihan eclipsed the need to obey her mother, though. Every time she even mentioned a yokai around her mother, it was an invitation for hysteria. Kokoro constantly warned her daughter about the evil of ghosts the way that some parents might warn against drugs, bad grades, and boys. The fact that Wakana had a small college's library worth of books and sagas, full of her own personal investigations and conjectures about the supernatural would have made Kokoro sob out of fear, and maybe subsequently burn her collection. Her mother sometimes acted in such extremes that Wakana doubted that she would even go outside to light the fire, and she quite like Mizaki's house.

Once, Kokoro had been certain that a doily Wakana had uncovered while emptying cases of junk was possessed by Tsukiyomi, and before Wakana could assure her that she doubted that the great and powerful moon-god would possess a doily, Kokoro had burned it and nearly set her bed on fire. When Wakana had tried to correct her—she had probably meant _tsukumogami,_ Kokoro had cried for hours. In the kitchen closet, but only after smashing half the old china. Mizaki had threatened to evict the both of them when he discovered his depleted stock in teacups. Kokoro was stubborn in her certainty that the doilies had been touched by the moon god.

Though, her mother had been more than off the past couple of weeks, more so every full moon night, and even worse when Rihan was somewhere in the house. She got so paranoid, she clung to Wakana all through the night with stiff arms. She lost more and more weight, and her hair thinned and her joints cracked and she looked dead except for the bright sheen of fear and paranoia in her eyes at every turn. How she even convinced the woman out of the house; on this particular day nonetheless, was a considered a sheer miracle to her.

She pushed her guilt down to the recesses of her consciousness and promised herself she'd do something her mother enjoyed, though Kokoro enjoyed precious little nowadays. Wakana had gotten so used to sailing the furious waves of her mother's roiling emotions that she was accustomed to planning around it.

Kokoro had lost two jobs since they moved to Nejireme; then she stopped applying. Mizaki had yet to kick them out, and Wakana had been working hard to stay in his good graces ever since she had moved in. She mostly succeeded, but then, she had known few people able to resist her dimples and sweet face. She smirked.

The old fashioned manor was nearly spotless; and now most of the house was walled off from the rest, not being used. She had even managed to put fusuma walls between the large room she used to share with her mother, and now enjoyed a small bit of privacy. A thin door still separated the two, so it wasn't as much as she wished she had, but it was enough to have a space that she could escape her mother's misery every now and then.

Rihan had started taking her out when night fell.

The night was less eerie than it had been when she had struck out on her own. He never took her close to Nejireme; he would always take her into the city or the suburbs, into small locales where he was as much a stranger to the area as she was. Oftentimes, he would take her to the park where they had first met, and they would climb the trees and enjoy each others' company well into the night.

Once, the night she had first left Nejireme, they laid side by side at the base of the tree, and Wakana had been talking about a party she had gotten invited to.

"_My classmate Tomoe invited me," she had said. "There were all sorts of people there. We in one of the abandoned buildings near the road on the outskirts of town. Someone brought choko and it was the most ridiculous thing I ever saw."_

"_Choko?" he asked._

"_Pot...marijuana?" _

_His eyebrows drifted higher and higher up his forehead in disbelief and he smirked. "You didn't…"_

_She rolled onto her side and shuffled to lay on her stomach. "I'm not my mother, Rihan-san. But that doesn't change that I saw some of the coolest kids in my class vomit all over themselves."_

"_I thought humans threw up when they drank alcohol."_

"_Well, that was there too, but I'm not legal yet, so I didn't take any," she shrugged. _

_He snorted. "So alcohol is too immoral for your lily-white liver, but choko is perfectly acceptable?"_

"_I wasn't there for the choko. It wasn't like I was the one smoking it. I was there to laugh at the jerks in my class."_

"_You're awful," he shook his head, though Wakana knew he was smiling. She doubted it was a anything more than a grin. She had never seen him smile more than that. It hurt her heart; what could hurt a yokai so bad as to strip away a smile. From what she knew, when things got bad, all anyone had left was a smile, perseverance, and optimism. If she was the one to make him smile...it would be all the better._

_But then, she told her heart not to go down that road. Rihan still felt married, still held tight by whoever had last held the strings of his heart, and then cut them so brutally._

"_Not much more awful than the big, bad yokai who steals young women from their beds." _

_He held up a hand to stop her. "The last I remember, this young _girl _chased me out into a forest filled with yokai that tried to kill her."_

_She smiled, and pinched his cheek until it was red and he pushed her hand off. "I don't recall being the one doing the chasing."_

_He closed one eye absently and pinched her cheek back, though not nearly as ferociously. An idle smile graced his thin lips. "We must have different perspectives, then. I remember being chased very well."_

_She smirked, as if he were joking, but her heart pounded in her chest just a little harder._

_Even if it was small, his smile was genuine, and the honesty in it made it beautiful._

Most of the time, she did the talking. It took a little while, but eventually the truth managed to subvert Wakana's optimistic bullheaded-ness—pressuring Rihan was the only sure way to get him to really clam up and stop talking about whatever you wanted him to talk about.

She would tell pointless anecdotes about her dead sister and he would return the favor. She knew he had a father and 'two brothers' and a large extended family that still kept in touch, and he was a patriarch of sort (well, that she had assumed herself). Sometimes, he would come disguised as a human. The first it had happened, besides the time she had insulted him in the cherry tree where they first met, was a vivid memory of hers.

_She was cooking, the smell of spices permeated the entire kitchen like a perfume. It was a Saturday morning, in the late winter, and the leaves were past the stage where they crunched loudly beneath her feet. They were soggy and dark brown, having survived being under the melted snow for a few weeks, and they covered the road and her porch like decay and dirt. It was an irritant of hers, but she had not had the time to clean it yet; the school was in full swing. She was expecting Rihan soon, and she hoped that he would come. He had become more reliable in visiting her and remembering to show up._

_Her mother would be out of the house all day. She sincerely hoped—however unlikely that it was—that he would magically show up early and spend the day with her. She was not one to stay alone in a big, empty house. Even before, her apartment had been small, and she could dote on her sister or the neighbor's baby or even the damn flowers if she was really feeling desperate. _

_Mizaki's house was too wide, too expansive, and too...woodsy for her to bear alone. Every creak was never a breeze, every squeak was a mouse or a rat, and she always cooked for two when their was only ever her. Mizaki had gone over to Hagone to visit his grown daughter—the same daughter whose room Wakana and her mother lived in. Apparently he'd had another daughter who had shared the room, but she'd been murdered on her college campus. He had only ever spoken of her once, when Wakana had accidentally come across a picture, and she had never asked again._

_Wakana had declined an invitation to escort the aging man so far out because Kanagawa had been one of the places that Rihan had warned her away from, the last time they had met up. He had seemed intimately familiar with the area though, and a funny expression always pulled at his lips whenever he talked about it. As if he were unsure whether to smile, frown, or cry. _

_She had teased him about a scorned lover left behind, and he had scowled so fiercely she could not help but be afraid and vanished in a swirl of darkness and fear. She threw a teacup at the place he had last sat, legs splayed, crossed at the ankle. It cracked against the wall, and the smell of his kizami still lingered in the air from where he had last sat smoking._

_That was why she really hoped he would appear earlier; that maybe he would open up enough to apologize to her. That he would know that she had meant it in jest, because the guilt felt crushing for the entire week that had passed. _

_Especially since she _knew _that he had a wife. _

_A shrill beeping had interrupted her thoughts, and she squeaked, turning off the gas stove. The rice had boiled over, and was completely ruined. The water had run down the pot and gotten caught in the fire, and smoke had wafted high enough in the air to pointlessly trigger the alarm. She sighed and pulled an obi over the front of her yukata; she decided she would eat out instead of having to start all over._

_The long trek into town was so familiar to her, she hardly gave it a thought, even in her sandals. She smiled brightly despite her dour mood at anyone who greeted her, which, in a small town was fairly often. _

_Most of the stands were near the plaza, and she didn't feel like walking that far, so she ended up sitting miserably (not that anyone could tell) by herself in a tiny 'diner'. It was actually a lonely old mansion whose inner walls had been stripped completely because Chichi-baachan, a crazy little old lady, loved to cook. _

_She took a chair at a table after being fussed over, and then was given a generous helping of food. She smiled down at her plate, fishing through her pockets before realizing that she had forgotten her wallet—even if it was necessarily required, she always tipped the old woman whenever she accepted charity. She bit her lips, and looked around for little bit, glad for once that she was alone._

_She ate quickly and as neatly as possible, at least she thought so, when an eerily familiar voice interrupted just as she was about to take another bite._

_Rihan sat across from her, smirking his infuriatingly annoying smirk. She smiled back at him, though her chest still burned in annoyance at what he'd done. And he had the audacity to just walk up and pretend like it did not happen!_

"_Hello, Wakana-chan," he said, eyeing her, not quite lasciviously. She was just a little disappointed, then she could have reciprocated the feeling (or the gaze). His yukata was open just enough that she could see the crest of his pale chest. _

_She was still mad, though that would hardly stop her talking from him._

"_Hello, Rihan-san," she greeted back, though her eyes were not as bright as they would be had she truly been glad to see him. When he stopped smirking and immediately frowned at her, she almost face-palmed; it would not be the first time that Rihan had proved more perceptive than she would have liked._

_Things were silent for a little while,quieter than it should be without the noise of Wakana's constant speech, and then he spoke again, pointing out the bit of rice that Wakana had left on the corner of her mouth. Laughing nervously, she reached up to wipe it away, but his hands caught hers first. He stared intently at her, his eyes were a fierce yellow even in the brightly lit room._

_Without another word, he pulled her tight to his chest, and they vanished from the room, the only sound being Wakana's surprised shriek of excitement and fear. The world was dark and cold and intangible through his fear, and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead and her arms began shaking as they ran across town so quickly that the ground beneath her was a great blur. No one seemed to notice them besides a shiver or a gentle feel of unease._

_When they reached the small main street near the high school, he put her down, and luckily held onto her arm, else she would have slumped to the ground. Her legs felt as strong as jelly, and her pupils were dilated._

_Rihan opened his mouth to speak, but Wakana cut him off once more._

"_What was that?" she asked breathlessly, eyes wide open. "Please answer me honestly!" _

_Rihan's expression was uncertain, but only for a split second. "It's called Meikyō Shisui…"_

That was the first time he had opened up to her about him being a yokai; the first time he had used his abilities around her. Thinking about it now, it made a small smile bloom brightly on her face.

Nightfall was still an hour or so away, but Wakana was in too good a mood to let that bring her down too far. She had skipped school early that day to prepare the house; Rihan would meet her mother (in human form) and then he could stop creeping around the school and her house like the ayakashi he was and she could walk in the daylight with him. Maybe one day, even meet his clan.

She liked to jokingly tease him about being in a mob, and he never denied it, though most of the time, he only rolled his one eye that he kept open and kept on smoking. Her whole room smelled faintly of the distinct smell of kizami, no matter how many times she opened the window or aired out her tatami. He would smoke with one eye open while she did her homework, though she would never realize until he decided to randomly appear and scare her out of her skin.

He was too fast to tickle, and so she was always ready for his presence. He walked around in the house like he owned it (never when her mother was around though, Wakana liked to think it was because he knew it would upset her) appeared and vanished at random times, and always, _always_ stole her food.

So she always, always cooked for two, and he would have a strange expression whenever he came sneaking into her house to find a plate set aside for him, even though one would never know when he showed up or not.

Based on what she had read about nurarihyon, she had a feeling he was in her house even _  
><em>when she didn't know, unless he actually went home like she asked him to.

The June air was humid and muggy, and she watched the sun out of the corner of her eyes. It was still early in the month,nearly halfway so she didn't expect much, but one thing that plagued her mind had bothered her incessantly since her birthday.

He had made a promise, and her passion had urged her to hold him to his honor. The end of the month was fast approaching, and she would have to make a decision soon.

_It was in late December that she come across the thick volume at a book sale that was held at her school library. It was heavy and dusty and smelt of mold and decay, and the pages were yellowed and crinkled and the writing was faded and tiny. _

_Inside the book, was stamped the date it had been brought to the library, it read 1954. Thirty students' names were hastily written in the cover in the checkout section, and the title was small, plain, and printed in black—_

_Uji Shui Monogatari._

_It had cost her hardly an ounce of her pocket change, and so she had taken it home and read it. The following weekend, she had harassed Rihan about Hyakki Yagyo. At first, he had been tight lipped about it._

"_So how about the Summer Solstice?" she asked, over tea. They were seated on the floor for once, and he had declined tea that evening. Something else was on his mind, and mostly had ignored her for the evening. She had decided to interpret it as companionable silence. _

_He coughed a little and opened an eye; both of them had been closed for a bit. "What about the solstice?" he asked._

"_Isn't that the Hyakki Yagyo?" she asked, flipping through the tome on her lap until she opened up to the story. It wasn't the first time she had heard the story of course; nor the first time that she had pondered upon the ancient tale's relevance to Rihan and his clan. One of the many picture books she had read to her sister had featured the auspicious parade._

_He shrugged. "We call the Hyakki Yakk__ō, and it is only for the protected members and allies of the Nura close to us who claim to be our allies and our...brothers-in-arms."_

"_Clan…so then, not all yokai in Japan are united?"_

_He rolled his eye. "You know they're not, you've wheedled that much out of me."_

_She ignored him and plowed on. "What's the oldest clan?"_

_He sighed, chewed pensively on his pipe, and replied, "I don't actually know. Yokai have existed for thousands upon thousands of years; some of them ascend to become greater beings, others die, and others simply...endure. My father is a thousand years old." He said offhandedly._

_Her eyes widened; she knew that, had had a feeling, but she would have placed such a great number on any one being...especially not Rihan. Did he have the same kind of longevity? Would he forget her if enough time passed?_

"_How old are you?" _How long until I'm just a passing memory?

_He smiled and winked—it might have been a blink, but when Rihan was in yokai form, he didn't do so often—"Don't you know it's rude to ask someone their age?"_

"_Only if they're a lady, Rihan-san."_

_He snorted and rolled over. "Are you saying I'm not pretty?"_

_She smiled brightly. "Of course you are! Especially when you've got your hair down, all long and luscious! You look more womanly than me!"_

_He mock scowled, but she could tell that he wasn't truly mad. Smirking, she sipped at her tea. She had brewed it a little too bitter that day, but despite the biting chill outside, the air inside the mansion was warm enough that her tea was only slightly lukewarm and not cold._

_If Nurarihyon was a thousand years old, then the book still outdated the Nurarihyon. She licked her lips, deep in thought, mentally trying to place Rihan's age without outright asking him; it was clear he would never answer her straight, and he always, always deflected her questions._

"_Is there such thing as prophecy?" she asked. _

"_That's not random at all," he drawled, and she scowled and jabbed his side. He only rolled over and buried his face in his robes._

"_Is there?" _

"_That's the business of the onmyougi."_

"_Oh, they actually exist! That's so cool!" she scuttled closer to him and flopped down on the edge of his loose robe. "I wonder—"_

"_No." _

"_No?"_

"_No." he said again, a solemn finality in his voice. "Don't go asking around. It calls attention to you, and then the wrong types of people start looking." He pondered for a bit. "Plus, the onmyouji are based in Kyoto. It's another clan's territory."_

"_Like getting shot up by the yakuza when you cross them?" she asked. "Could they just tell that I know you or something?"_

"_No, I doubt that, but...they await their leader and they have no...restrain." He frowns. "The area is one of the most dangerous territories, home to some of the oldest yokai clans and the most ruthless creatures. They fought my father, you know."_

"_So you don't like these Kyoto guys because your father has a blood feud with them...and cause the onmyougi are from the same area you don't like them either?" she snorts. "It's like a drama."_

"_It is, isn't it?" he agreed._

All you need would be a forbidden love triangle and a tragic death, _she thought, but refrained from commenting._

"_Would you ever take me on a Night Parade?" she asked. "I feel as if I know them so well, like I know you well, but then, there's this disconnect between you and your family."_

"_Is there?" he disagreed blandly. "It's gotten a lot better since you forced me home." _

_She pinched his arm. "You know you love me for it."_

_He was quiet, and she mentally berated herself when she realized she had thrown her words around again. She knew he knew that she was joking, but whatever he was thinking of was weighing him down and made every light word of friendship sink like a stone to the darker waters of his thoughts._

_The quiet was awkward. Sometimes, Wakana wished that there was another word to exacerbate the meaning of awkward so that she describe the way she felt whenever her mouth ran ahead of her thoughts._

Maybe you should stop treating him like glass, _she thought. _Apologise. Explain!

"_I'm sorry," she blurted out suddenly. _

"_For what?" he said, and then he smiled—wide, brilliant, tricky and purely the spirit that she had seen buried underneath years of sadness and regret. "It's the truth. I do love you for it."_"_Friends?" she held out her cup of now cold tea._

_He paused, and then took her cup and took a sip, not even grimacing at the awful taste. "Of course."_

_She smiled and invited him into the kitchen; though he still declined his own cup. While she boiled water, she sat at the table and fiddled with her hands. _

"_You know, Rihan, you never answered my question." _

_He pursed his lips in irritation, his face was just a little more tense. "You asked a lot of questions."_

"_Would you ever let me join your Hyakki Yakou?"_

"_You're asking for more than what you understand." he replied. Before she could interject—he never told her anything, so of course she didn't know everything—there was only so much one could derive from fairytales and picture books, he flatly told her, "No. People have been driven mad by being a witness to it."_

_Wakana fumed internally with an unidentifiable feeling, but only gave him a solemn nod, eyes wide. "Then how about on summer nights?"_

_Interested, he leaned forward from his slouch in her small kitchen chair, motioning go on. Wakana, still shaken from his blatant rejection, started to reply when they were interrupted by the loud whistling of the teapot. With the shrill squeal as the anthem to her declaration, she took a deep breath._

"_The week before the solstice, your nights are mine. You've promised a lot, but I wasn't kidding when I said I want to know everything about yokai. I want to know your gangs and your territories and your histories, what's fact and what's fiction. And the night of the Hyakki Yagyō—"_

"_Yakō," he interrupted gently, gazing into her eyes intently._

"_Yakō," she agreed easily, "I'll stay inside, away from the mountain, away from the fear of Gyukki and Nejireme and...and you," she admitted reluctantly._

_Despite all she thought she knew, and no matter how hard she tried to compensate for her ignorance, she was always out of her depths._

_He smiled, hesitantly, and as if sensing her discomfort, reached over the table and delicately encompassed her hands in his own. His hands were cool and her heart stuttered in her chest. _

"_Okay," he said. _

"_Promise me, Rihan-san," she demanded. "Specifics!"_

"_I promise you," Rihan vowed, and his lips quirked up just a little higher than she had seen it before. Wakana couldn't resist smiling back, heady on his words; her expression was glowing._

"_You know I'll hold you to that! And I'll find you and pinch your face until you look like a fat cheeked baby if you think I don't mean it!" _

"_You wouldn't be Okinamachi Wakana if you didn't."_

This was the last night before the solstice, and Wakana had never been more eager, nor excited to see the man that she could comfortably call her best, if only friend.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry it's not longer (nor quite as nicely edited as I wanted) but I wanted to post it as soon as possible and my sister is getting on my fucking nerves about the laptop. Please review? I didn't take as long to update this time. *puppy eyes*<strong>

**YellowWomanontheBrink,**

**12:06 p.m. **

**June 27, 2014**


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